Exhale
by SoManyAnchors
Summary: Inhaling in life is easy. It's the exhaling–the letting go–that's the hard part. Hayley is grieving from the loss of her loved ones, and Jacob is left behind by the girl he was once in love with. But maybe they can help each other by teaching the other when it's acceptable to let go; when it's okay to exhale.
1. Prologue - Inhale

**Disclaimer**: _I don't own the "Twilight" Saga._

* * *

**|Hayley|**

They—whoever 'they' are, is beyond me—say it feels as if you're falling asleep. And the 'it' I'm talking of is death. But, I wouldn't know—remember, even.

If anyone were to ask me about it—about that night and what happened—I couldn't say if I died. I don't remember anything.

There wasn't a white light that sticks out in my mind; nothing even close to that in my memory. No warmth that surrounded me and comforted me. I didn't see my mother waiting for me; I didn't see anyone.

If I died, even briefly, I hope that it was everything they say. That there _is _a God and he helps you through the gates, welcomes you with open arms; that I saw family members before they rushed me back through the light to Life.

Or maybe I was in the in-between. That little bit of limbo Dante described, waiting for my Virgil.

It doesn't really matter, though.

I'm still here.

Life isn't easy; I'll be the first to tell you that. It's hard, dirty, and disgusting. Most of the time, I want to just give up and throw in the metaphorical towel. Most of the time, I just can't find it in myself to care.

I _don't _care.

And, most of the time, I'm numb and unaware.

That's how I like it.

* * *

**A/N**: _I feel like this prologue is long overdue... Am I right? Lol. _

_It's short and sweet, but I feel like it speaks volumes all the same. I hope it moves you, as it has me just by writing it. _

_Reviews are always appreciated. :)_

_-Dev._


	2. Chapter 1 - Wreckless Mind

**Disclaimer**: _I do not own the "Twilight" Saga._

**Side-note**:_ Set during "Eclipse," though the time frame will be a little off. AU._

* * *

**|Hayley|**

Another nightmare wakes me in the gray early morning. Not the one that leaves you screaming in the early morning hours, while you thrash violently in your bed, but the one that leaves a sour taste in the back of your mouth and a heavy feeling of dread surrounding you, landing like a stone in your gut. If only I could remember them - these nightmares. If only I could remember the things that terrify me, the monsters under the bed, the creepy things that bump in the night.

Sitting up, I feel the sheets sticking to my damp arms and legs. I can feel the sweat pouring down my forehead, gliding into my eyes and clouding my already-blurry vision. My head is pounding, my brain is throbbing - the early stages of a headache working it way behind my eyes, my body's evil way to keep me awake in the morning when I only want to fall back to sleep.

I must have had _some _dream.

My hand instinctively reaches to grasp the platinum chain around my neck, the one that hold the circular locket dangling from my neck, the locket that houses the faces of my family. On my palm, I can feel the pressure of the owl against my skin, permanently marking me for the rest of the day as I tightly squeeze the piece of jewelry. The mark will fade, it always does, but I'll still feel it within my skin. I lift the locket to my lips, gently kissing it, before quickly releasing it from my grip and letting the locket fall against my chest where it rightfully belongs.

I'd rather be in bed, but I fight the urge. After grabbing some clothes for the day, I slowly trudge to the shower to start my usual morning routine. I stand beneath the stream of scalding hot water, letting it pound against my sensitive flesh. I can feel the top layer of skin, the thin sheen of sweat I collected through the night, washing away just like the nonexistent remains of the dream. _Or nightmare. _I should really use correct terms.

While the shower itself doesn't make me feel clean, not completely, it does make me feel _slightly _better. It makes me feel as if I can face the world in the upcoming hours with a fresh slate - a new canvas. As damaged as I am I feel that I can accomplish anything right now.

The feeling usually fades within the hour.

After towel-drying myself off, I drape the green towel over the metal bar screwed into the wall and grab my neatly folded clothes from the counter dressing myself as I avoid the gaze of morning-me in the mirror. It's never a pretty sight.

The weekend, sadly, is over and I start the second week - first full five-day week - of school today. It's just another typical day - another day where I am the freak, the junior class psycho, or any variation of the terms, or any new words that you want to add in, it all works around here.

I tug on my clothes, taking in the feel of the fabric against my steamed skin. As I correct the fall of clothing and smooth out any wrinkles, I check the reflection in the steamed mirror. I don't feel right; not completely. But I try to ignore the uncomfortable feeling looming over me like a shadow of a tall tree. I won't feel like myself - I'll _never _feel like myself.

As I stare at the lifeless girl before me, I realize that I'm not even sure what 'myself' is supposed to feel like - I just know that I won't feel _right _for a long, long time. Maybe not ever. To be honest, since my aunt took me in, some part of me has felt distant, some part of me felt misplaced forgotten, and corrupted.

In a nutshell: _dead_.

Dead like my mother. Dead like my father. Dead like my brother.

I _should _be dead, too. Decomposing six feet below, spending my days with Elvis and my great aunt Ida - maybe with my family, too. The scar that mars my abdomen, the one I've refused to show the world, agrees with me and aches whenever this thought crosses my mind.

But I'm still here, _breathing_, while they aren't.

How fair is that?

I sigh as I pull my damp and drying hair over my left shoulder, completely exposing the right side of my neck, and watch the water droplets fall to the hardwood floor below. My auburn curls are almost dry (the very same ones I've thought about shearing off ten times over, just because it reminds me of my mother). I paint my face with the usual makeup, nothing over the top, and brush my teeth using the disgusting cinnamon toothpaste I hate, but have yet to replace before vacating the bathroom.

The cold air of the hallway seeps through my clothes, my skin, chilling me to the bone. These old farmhouses are always infamous for being drafty. I shiver for a brief moment before my body can adjust to the temperature and force my bare feet to start their journey.

I walk back into my bedroom. After making my bed, using hospital corners, because I'm a bit weird, I go to my cluttered desk to prepare my backpack, shoving all binders and pieces of homework into their respective places before zipping it up and shouldering it.

I make my way down the stairs, listening to the old wood creak beneath my steps, and drop my pack by the piano bench in the living room before making a beeline for the kitchen. Upon entering the room through the white swinging door, I notice how the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air. I inhale deeply as I make my way to the coffee maker. I notice a small Post-It note stuck to the counter top.

_Have a cup of liquid courage (sorry, I'm out of bourbon)._  
_Good luck today, kiddo._  
_-Kate_

A wry smile somehow finds its way to my face at my aunt's encouraging words. No doubt I just missed her by a mere few minutes before she rushed off to the hospital. She's a registered nurse at Forks Hospital, and dedicates most of her time to her career. Which, honestly, works out for me since I've learned to operate better alone.

I'm just thankful she transferred out here to Forks, from Seattle, to help raise her estranged brother's daughter. At least, this way, there isn't a chance for me to get lost in the System. I can remain in my childhood home for just a _little_while longer. Though the feeling is bittersweet (mostly bitter) I can't imagine finishing up my high school years _anywhere _else.

I need _some _sort of consistency in my life, right?

After downing two mugs of the scorching coffee, and rinsing out the dish, I place it in the drainer. I'm honestly sad to leave the kitchen - it's actually my favorite room in the house. It's spacious and open, with old-fashioned white furniture, pretty crystal windows, and perpetually sun-kissed walls. However, it hasn't been used properly since my mother's passing. _She _was the culinary genius, while neither me nor my aunt could cook for beans.

It's only when I glance at the clock on the stove, informing me that it's 7:35 AM, that I realize I need to get going if I'm to make it to school before the tardy bell. So, I lock up the house before making a beeline for my truck. Actually, it was Will's before the accident, but I've claimed it as my own seeing as how I haven't had the heart to park it permanently just yet. Selling it is just out of the question.

I can easily remember the summer my brother was _finally _able to purchase this hunk of junk, after saving every last dime from his paychecks. He took pride in what he purchased, and I even offered my services to help him give the vehicle a facelift. For the better part of three months, my life was spent under the hood of this Ford. Though I can remember complaining to Will about how this truck was more trouble than what it was worth, I wouldn't give up those times I spent with my older brother for anything.

I'm not even aware that I'm crying until a few droplets enter my mouth, and I taste the saltiness against my tongue. I sniffle and use the sleeve of my blue thermal shirt to wipe away the excess tears on my cheeks before checking my reflection in the rearview mirror. _So much for the makeup, _I think grimly as I take in my pale face and my red-rimmed eyes – a sure sign that I've been crying. I pinch my cheeks, trying to get some color back into them, before inserting the key into the ignition and starting up the truck.

I decide to take the scenic route to school, not bothering to cut through town to get to school.

The two lane road stretches on before me, with walls of trees and shrubbery that stretched on forever on either side. A very heavy sigh escapes my lips, collapsing my lungs within my chest, making me feel small and insignificant. I lean over and prod at the buttons on the radio until the broken antenna finally captures a local Country station, albeit a staticy one. But at least it's enough to break the deafening silence.

It's as I straighten back up that I see it, a large russet flash _of…something_ as it crosses the road just in front of my truck. I breathe in sharply and react almost immediately, stomping on my breaks, afraid of hitting whatever it is, and whip the wheel around in a frenzy.

I don't mean to act so ignorantly, but it's just so unexpected. My attempt at avoiding the thing puts my truck out of control and it spins off the road, the vehicle jerking to a stop as the right back side makes contact with a tall spruce. During all of this, I'm thrown around like a ragdoll, jerking wildly; my head coming into contact with the window first, then my head rest, and finally my steering wheel. I can feel the seatbelt tugged tightly against my chest, and my throat is sore from where it's digging into the top layer of my skin.

The worst part, though? I can slowly feel myself slipping in and out of unconsciousness. My eyes suddenly become heavy, and I can feel my body start to feel weightless.

Soon, I'm drifting.

* * *

**A/N**: I hope you enjoy this story, as much as I know I will writing it! Feedback is always encouraged, and welcome!

Until the next chapter!

-Dev.

**P.S. **This chapter has been edited!


	3. Chapter 2 - Hospital Horrors

**|Hayley|**

_Tip-tap. Tip-tap. Tap-tap-tap._

I come awake all at once, with a jolt like five shots of espresso hitting my bloodstream at full speed. _"Ugh,"_ I moan loudly, my throat burning with the noise. My head feels like a bowling ball being cracked by a giant's fingers. My vision is bleary as I force my lids up, and away from my hazel eyes. My forehead is still resting against the steering wheel, and so I try to set myself upright despite the protest of every muscle in my neck and back.

I peer frantically around the cab, rubbing what feels like a half-ton of sand out of my eyes. I feel relief wash over me when everything seems to be in order, and I don't spot anything broken – as far as the truck goes. I obviously can't see if there's a large dent in the back-end, though.

_Tap. Tap. _Like little rubber-covered sticks drumming against the glass.

I whirl around, trying to ignore the pulsating sensation in my head and the ache in my ribs, and find myself become inexplicably still as I take in the sight of what – rather _who_ – is on the other side of the glass.

Outside of my window is a boy – no, a _man_ is a more appropriate term considering his massive size and well-toned body. His upper torso is completely bare, and the only covering he has is a pair of jean cut-offs that look worse for wear. As our eyes clash, I notice how his body becomes inexplicably _rigid. _It's as if someone has just electrocuted him, the way his body stiffens. His dark, soulful eyes grow to the size of saucers and his lips part just enough to reveal the stark white of his teeth against his tan skin.

I feel my cheeks grow warm as I shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze, and reach for the handle to row down the window part way as I wait for him to say something...

...except he doesn't. He opens his mouth for a moment, as if he's about to begin, then stops and shuts his mouth as if he doesn't know how to. We continue to stare at each other for a prolonged moment, both taking in the other's appearance; him looking over me searchingly, and I taking him in all in wonder. _Is it just me, or is he hunched over just so he can look inside at me?_

He appears to be confused by my expression. What _is_ my expression? Horror, shock, pain, surprise? I figure it must be a combination of them all, because as I try to collect myself, he seems to do the same. I watch as concern, and even a little anger, mask his face, if my eyes aren't deceiving me. I'm sure they are, though, since everything is still a little fuzzy around the edges.

Finally, my stranger speaks, which I'm thankful for. "Are you…alright?" It's odd how such an intimidating person has trouble finding his words, like he isn't sure of what he's doing. Unfortunately, though, he doesn't seem too convinced by my nod of affirmation. _Is my face betraying me? _"I, uh, heard you crash. What happened?"

"I-I'm not sure. I think it was something…_big_," I mumble, only shaking my head to the slightest degree so as not to cause myself more pain.

"You look like you're in really bad shape," he tells me softly, still staring at me with those intense eyes. It's beginning to become a little unsettling, and makes a small tremble course through my shoulders. "Listen, I'll feel bad if I just let you go like this. Can I please drive you to the hospital?"

His question takes me by surprise, but he seems sincere about it. Besides, after what just happened, I'm in no condition to drive. Of course, there is the fact that I don't know who this person is, that I need to take into consideration. Aside from the obvious fact that he's from the Quileute tribe in La Push, I know nothing about him.

"My name is Jacob Black," he introduces himself, as if he can read my thoughts. Either that, or he's just extremely perceptive. "I won't hurt you," he adds desperately, confusing my already muddled mind.

_What does he mean by that?_

His reassurance seems to do the trick, however, because I'm soon opening the door for him and climbing over into the passenger seat. While ever fiber in my being is screaming at me to run for the hills, my body is aching and I know I have no chance of outrunning him, anyway.

Jacob doesn't appear to notice that I'm internally battling with myself as he climbs into the truck and settles himself into the driver's seat. I let out a languid sigh as I rest the side of my face against the cool glass, suddenly feeling very sleepy. I yawn, my lids already drooping as my shoulders slump forward.

"Hayley Graham… For the doctors," I mutter lowly.

I can't keep my eyes open anymore and I embrace the relief sleep can bring for my pain.

* * *

_It's so hot. Am I in the Sahara?_

"No-o," I manage to croak out, answering my own question. I sigh heavily and nestle back into the furnace I'm sleeping against; it's comfortable, despite the fact that it's _very _hot. This furnace is pleasantly soft too, which only adds to my blissful state of warmth. Another sigh whistles from my lungs and my furnace chuckles lightly, rocking at the sound.

"'No' what? Are you about to ask me for five more minutes?" A husky voice says, sarcasm and playfulness evident in its tone. I gasp and my eyes flash open, only to cause a slightly burning sensation in them. I hiss in protest and quickly close them again, realizing that my retinas are a little too sensitive to the lighting. I feel something large - a hand, I quickly realize - run over the back of my head in a soothing motion. It would have been relaxing, if I wasn't so disoriented at the moment.

"Why is it so _hot_?" I moan, _slowly_ opening my eyes again. With bleary eyes I take a quick glance at my surroundings, and feel my blood run cold when my brain registers just _where _I am. The ER waiting room of Forks Hospital, with its bright florescent lighting and bustling staff, is _not _a place I'm particularly fond of. Though, I notice how the chairs have been rearranged a bit since my last time being here. There is still the out of date magazines stacked up in reckless piles on small end tables, the vending machines that always eat your money tucked away in the corner, and faux plants galore just to add to the horror.

I wonder if I let it get to me, if I break down right here, right now, will they really send off to one of _those _hospitals?

"Hayley...Hayley..._Hayley Graham_? Are you okay?" I don't realize that I haven't been listening, until now. "Hello? _Hello?" _It's the deep voice from earlier, only it's muffled. A blurred, yet somewhat familiar face, appears in front of my own.

_Strange. _My cheeks are growing very warm, all of a sudden. I reach up and touch them gingerly only to find there is something blocking my fingertips and my cheeks. I roam along the smooth, scorching surface of the two earmuffs, all in a daze from the electricity that seems to pass through them and into my flesh.

"Are you alright? Please, answer me." It's with the pleading tone that everything snaps back into place as if something goes _pop! _and it all comes rushing in at once.

"I'm sorry. I lost track of things for a second. I'm fine." My voice sounds pathetic, even to me, and I try to smile as best as I can at the handsome boy before me. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem convinced. "You were saying...Jacob?" The name feels foreign on my tongue, but at least me speaking seems to calm him down a little.

Jacob drops his burning hands from my face and lets them rest in his lap. I'm glad for that; I dont know how much more heat I can take.

"You had me worried there, you know. You looked like you were about to cry, again." He's shaking his head as he speaks, his expression suddenly turning hard, pulling his russet skin taught against his strong jaw. His last two words ring repeatedly through my ears, but Jacob doesn't notice my vacant expression. Rather, he's saying something again, but I don't force myself to listen. Besides, I get the gist of what he's telling me: he didn't let the doctor's wake me up, so I still have to go through x-rays and probably a multitude of other tests.

All of that equals up to _one _thing: spending more time in the hospital.

"_Why _didn't you let the doctors wake me up?" I hiss through clenched teeth, so angry that I feel as though I could just _spit _in this guy's face. "This hospital is the _last _place I want to be right now. I _hate _it here, and now I'm going to be stuck here all day!" I can feel everything bubbling up dangerously inside of me, anxiety ripping through my chest with claws as sharp as knives; jabbing and tearing through everything. "Who the _hell_ do you think you are, anyway? Why did you even bother sticking around? I can take care of myself, y'know!"

My head is practically _pulsating_ as my words rise in volume, but Jacob just sits there and takes it all in stride. I'm honestly surprised that he puts up with it, and it pisses me off that he doesn't even make an attempt to fight back. It isn't something I'm used to, that's for sure.

"Your doctor is here," Jacob mutters darkly, his black brows coming together as he turns away from me.

I groan as I stand to my feet, my balance slightly off-kilter, preparing myself to follow the middle-aged man that is decked out in a white coat with a clipboard in hand. At first, I feel like he's eyeing my bedraggled clothing, but I notice that his attention is focused on something behind me.

Curious, I turn around in just enough time to see Jacob standing to his feet and stretch, my jaw practically dropping to the floor. He's bigger than I expected; he's at least six-four. And I notice that he's wearing a scrub top. No doubt that one of the employees provided it for him seeing as how they have a dress policy here at the hospital, and he was shirtless the last time I was conscious.

Everyone in the waiting room is giving him the same awe-struck stare, and I can't wipe mine off my face as I follow the doctor so they can get photos of my noggin.

* * *

Why does everything have to be _white_? It isn't happy, it isn't hopeful; it's blank, monotonous and sterile. _Why couldn't they have done something happy, like orange or yellow?_

I chew on my thumbnail, focusing intently on the hospital walls and try my best to ignore the pain from the injuries I received. I sit on the scratchy sheets of the hospital bed, my arms wrapped around my knees, waiting in anticipation for my release papers. I'm on edge because I want to get out of here _before _Kate catches wind of her only niece being in the ER, when she _should _be sitting in the back of a classroom, trying her best just to mesh into the background and make it through the school day unscathed.

_I can't seem to do anything right, lately._

Also, I'm cranky, and _exhausted_, but relieved because Doctor Gerandy said that I didn't earn myself a concussion with my recklessness, however unintentional it might have been. He recommended that I sleep, keep some ice on my bumps and bruises, and take some aspirin as needed. _Thanks for telling me something I could have figured out on my own, _I think dryly while huffing in the process.

I squeeze my knees tighter and bite down a little harder on my thumbnail, trying not to let the different smells of the hospital get to me. The alcohol and hand sanitizer odors I can handle, but the other smells make me nervous. I can smell blood...blood and death. A light whimper escapes past my lips as I feel a tremor rake through my body, and begin rocking myself to try and distract myself from the last part.

_Everything is going to be okay, _I think to myself and attempt to swallow past the lump that rises in my throat.

"Ahem," I hear a throat clear, and my head shoots up so fast that I'm lightheaded. My body tenses when I find myself staring into a pair of ocher eyes, set in a face so handsome that it looks as though angels themselves sculpted it. "I'm sorry for the wait, Miss Graham. Dr. Gerandy had to step away for a moment, and he asked me to fill in for him."

"I-It's fine," I stumble over my words, not realizing until now that my tongue is heavy and dry in my mouth.

"I assume that Dr. Gerandy has covered everything?" the blonde man inquires, handing me a clipboard and a pen, indicating where I should sign and initial. Thankfully, they didn't have to give me morphine, or anything else that renders me illegally intoxicated. Because if they did, then that would mean I would have to have someone _else _sign me out.

"Yes, sir," I mumble as I return the clipboard, with the documents that I barely even skimmed over, to him. "May I leave now?"

A pleasant laugh spills from his mouth. "Eager, are we?"

_You don't even know. _I just give him a terse nod in response.

"Yes, as of now you are free to go," he utters the words that I've been _needing_ to hear. Without so much as a second thought, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and hop down quickly. _Too _quickly, it seems, because my knees begin to buckle. "Easy does it," the doctor - who I now know to be Carlisle Cullen, due to his ID badge pinned to the lapel of his lab coat - advises.

I try to refrain from showing any signs of shock at the iciness of his hands as he helps to steady me. He looks concerned. "I'm alright," I assure him, even throwing in a smile for effect. I'm just hoping he buys my act so I can leave.

"Very well," Dr. Cullen says after a prolonged moment, in which I feel anxiety begin to settle in. I'm frightened that he's going to tell me that I'll have to stay overnight for observation. "But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all."

I visibly relax, releasing a low sigh as I nod my head once more. With an amicable smile, Dr. Cullen says his goodbye before moving on to another patient in the next cubicle.

Now, it's time to make my exit.

I try my best to avoid the nurses and orderlies that are bustling about, not wanting to get in their way, and meander through the long hallways of the ER until the double doors come into view. On the other side of those doors is my freedom, and I practically scramble to reach it.

The waiting room is more unpleasant the second time around. I keep my head ducked down, my eyes lowered to the linoleum floor below me, so as to not make eye contact with anyone, and begin to fish around for my keys in the pockets of my jeans. Only, _they aren't there._ I feel the color drain from my face as I try to think of where they could be.

"Looking for these?" I jump at this, whipping around to see Jacob Black standing an arm's length away, with a smug smirk and holding up a set of keys. My brother's lucky rabbit foot stands out the most to me on the key ring, and I can't help but feel my blood boil at the sight of them in this boy's possession.

"Give me those," I all but demand, my eyes flashing dangerously, trying to make a grab for them. However, seeing as he's over a head taller than me, he stretches his arm up into the air, suspending them tauntingly overhead.

"I don't think you're in too good of a condition to drive," he tells me pointedly. "I mean, look at what happened last time."

"That's _only _because something ran out it front of me," I reminded him, attempting to snatch my keys from him a second time.

"Just let me drive you home," he says suddenly, catching me off-guard. "It's the _least_ I can do." Once again, he confuses me with his words, but the sincerity behind them are genuine. It's his eyes that are officially my undoing, though. They seem to be almost _pleading _with me to accept his offer.

Against my better judgement, I concede. "_Fine_," I grit out before practically stomping over to the glass doors of the exit.

Just because I've agreed to let him drive me home, _doesn't _mean I have to like it.

* * *

**A/N**: I love Jacob. :) 'Nuff said on that. Lol.

I hope you all like Hayley's character. Personally, I just love her (but I suppose I'm biased on that haha). I want her to be believable, as well as relatable. So please let me know what you think of her!

Oh, and this isn't going to be where Jacob rejects his imprint... Though I'm not exactly going to make it easy on Jake and Hayley. They're going to face some hardships. But don't worry: true love will prevail (I'm a hopeless romantic, btw).

Please leave some feedback with your thoughts, or if you might have a question about the story. I love hearing from you guys! :D

Have a good week!

-Dev.

**P.S. **This chapter has been edited!


	4. Chapter 3 - Conflicted

I've never liked rain. It symbolizes depression and, for someone who's mood _used _to be sunny - a long time ago - it's just something I simply don't believe in. Rain is always cold and will soak you every time, no matter _how _many rain coats you wear. I scoff._ How typical, then, that I live in Forks, Washington; where the sky constantly cries its eyes out._

With dull eyes, I stare out at the scenery, watching the rain pepper down in a steady rhythm. Forks is nothing if it not consistent with its weather patterns. The rain soaks the yard, filling up several puddles with murky water. The occasional plant and bush sag under the weight of the water and I notice birds perched in a tree, huddling together and fighting for the protection from the rain under the leaves.

I hear movement from upstairs, footsteps, and soon I'm joined by my aunt as she walks into the kitchen with her tired, bloodshot eyes set on the coffee maker. "Mornin'," she mumbles like an afterthought, exhaustion obvious in her voice as she sighs. Her eyelids are dropping, her petite body is sagging and dropping awkwardly to the left, and she looks ready to fall asleep wherever she stands.

"Hey, Aunt Kat," I say into my orange juice, calling her the nickname she despises. It was a happy accident when I was eight and it just stuck. I've called her that for years, now; she can't stop me, no matter how hard she tries. As a teenager, I am, like most, very stubborn.

She starts a pot off coffee with fumbling fingers that briefly make me mentally question her quality of work as a nurse. She ignores the fact that I've used my nickname for her, not snapping at me like she usually does, and turns to lean against the counter. Kate drags her hands through her ginger hair and turns her attention to me, lifting her gaze from the empty mug she holds in her hands, one of those Seattle mugs for tourists.

"Don't forget that _I'm _dropping you off at school today, on my way to work, kiddo," Kate reminds me.

_Again._

I let out a long, exaggerated sigh and close my eyes, leaning my head back. I try mentally counting to ten, something I was told to do when I get upset, or extremely pissed off. "How could I forget?" I ask her, the annoyance slithering into my tone like a snake.

I don't mean to come off so harshly, but this is purgatory; having my driving privileges taken away just because some idiotic boy didn't know how to keep his yap shut. I was seriously considering decking Jacob Black square in the jaw as soon as he let it slip about my accident, but no doubt I would have broken my hand in the process. And yet, it _might_ have been worth it.

"Right. Well, I'll just go get ready, then," Kate mumbles, pouring some coffee into her mug and exiting the kitchen without another word.

As I watch her retreating figure, shame slips through me, coursing through my veins. _I am such an idiot sometimes. _Kate is just trying to do right by me - doing what she thinks is best. _Like family._

I want to apologize for sounding like an immature brat. I want to set down my glass, run after her, place my hand on her shoulder, and, while looking into her emerald green eyes, smile sweetly and comfort her. Or as sweetly as I can.

But I'm not like that.

I will _never _be like that.

* * *

The halls of Forks High School are their usual crush as I walk to my locker. I notice a few stares from people as I pass by, and one girl even mumbles _'freak,' _under her breath. I've long since grown thick skin and the insult is easy to ignore. As long as it isn't written on my locker in hideous coral lipstick, I'm good.

I focus on a stray thread on the hem of my blouse, gnawing on my lower lip; a nervous tick of mine. So much has happened in the past year, it's strange to think of it all in sequence. It's even stranger to think that _this _is my life now. Before my family died, I was your typical kid. I hung out with friends, had sleepovers, watched hours of classic scream feasts with my brother (like the old _Halloween _and _Nightmare on Elm Street_ movies) and, when the weather was co-operable, my friends and I would gather on First Beach and spend some fun in the sun.

But _after _my family died? _I don't know. _Things just didn't seem to have the same appeal to me anymore. I withdrew. Where I had been loud and silly and voracious before, I became quiet, and I wanted to be alone more often. My circle of friends dwindled down over time, and I became a recluse. Cara Green, my best friend, held out the longest. But even she began to distance herself, growing closer to other girls. And honestly? It's okay. I became a major downer for a long time, and didn't expect my friends to be dragged down with me.

I sigh as I unload all of my post-lunch class books and notebooks into my locker, watching the book tower grow. It knocks serious weight from my back. Only a week, not even a full week, into school and I'm already regretting my decision of _four _advanced placement classes.

The tardy bell rings as I slide into my seat in my AP European History class. I'm in the seat next to Mike Newton. We're at the table in the back of the room, in front of the windows. I tug the red notebook from my backpack, the composition reserved for this class. Already, the first five pages are filled with notes in a rainbow of color, the pages crinkly and curling from my neat handwriting. I choose a purple pen today; I choose a different color every day for note taking. It keeps things interesting.

"I'm _not _going to be able to keep up in this class," I hear the blonde kid mutter bitterly as he slides into the seat next to mine and prepares his side of the desk, his eyes stealing glances at my notebook enviously.

_Then why take it?_

Mike is smart, he just isn't the AP type. Like most jocks at Forks High, he's okay with scraping by with a C average. As long as that means he can play on the varsity football team during the fall semester and soccer during the spring. Sometimes, it's hard to believe that he and Will were best chums when he was still alive.

Mr. Cheney finally walks through the door, his bald head glinting in the bright fluorescent light. It only gets worse throughout the class, somewhat blinding us as he exaggerates points with his entire body. With every move he makes, it's as if he's trying to tell us something in Morse code.

Fifty-five minutes and three full purple pages of notes later, I'm on my way to AP Calculus.

Most of my school day is spent just trying to get by without drawing any attention to myself. And, for the most part, I manage to do it without a hitch. Except for P.E.

It's as I tug my purple top over my head, leaving the white camisole on to hide my torso, that I notice a few girls glancing at me as I grab my shorts and t-shirt from my locker. The _last _thing these people need to see - need to know about - is my scar. The heather gray t-shirt I wear for this class falls down my stomach as someone struggles with the combination on the locker next to mine.

I watch as Jessica Stanley twists and spins the lock at least five times before grunting and hitting her palm against the hard, cold metal once, twice, three, four times until I fear she's about to sprain her wrist. She gives up, muttering, "I hate these damned lockers," before calling over Isabella Swan for some assistance. The pretty girl with pale skin and chocolate hair rolls her eyes, before detaching herself from the group of girls by the door of the locker room, and ambles over and assists her friend.

I watch in slight interest as Bella manages to open Jessica's locker the first time. The annoyed girl grabs her clothes from the metal box, throws them down on the bench with a huff. "I _hate _this stupid class."

"You _could _have been a cheerleader with Lauren," Bella reasons, almost hiding her grimace. I guess organized sports just aren't her thing.

The rule at Forks High is that students _must _take a gym class; be it weight lifting, global games, dance, and so on. There is even a walking class for those that don't want to try, or hate exercise all together. The only exception is if you play a sport for the school. They reason that you're already exercising, so there's no need to tire you out with an hour-long class before practice.

"So I can spend my days kissing Lorraine Cavanaugh's ass? No, thanks," Jessica huffs loudly, envy lacing her tone. I notice how a few girls nearby turn to glare at her as she badmouths one of the sweetest girls that attends Forks High School, alongside Angela Webber. I'm waiting for both girls to be inducted into sainthood.

Sooner than I would have liked, Coach Clapp is banging on the girls' locker room door, instructing us to join the rest of the class in the gymnasium. We all file out, albeit reluctantly. Obviously, the thought of running the mile irks a lot of people, but there's really no avoiding it. The coach likes to believe that running the mile weekly will make us faster. In retrospect, it _should,_ but it doesn't; not in the way he wants. I_ could _run a fast mile; I _could_ also enter a chicken wing-eating contest in a dive bar in the middle of Nowhere, Washington. I just choose not to.

I step into the gym, the thick scent of floor polish, chlorine - which is strange, because the school doesn't have a pool - and sweat wafts through the air. It's enough to make you gag. People are scattered around the gym in groups; some stretching, most talking, all annoyed to be here. I can relate to them on that note.

Coach Clapp calls the class to attention, calls roll, and then sends us out to the track for our damned weekly mile.

I run at a leisurely pace, not wishing to put in any real effort, and finish just under ten minutes. I only need a drink from the water fountain on the wall and I'm good to go.

Finally, class ends after we suffer through a few rounds of basketball. Some girl, that doesn't understand the concept of _keep your eyes on the ball_, got hit in the face by the basketball. Hard. It was a typical day in gym for us.

Soon, I'm in my normal clothes, and I'm on my way to AP Chemistry where I boil things over a Bunsen burner. Lunch is directly after, and as I enter the cafeteria I avoid eye contact with everyone.

I snag an apple from the lunch line, before the lunch lady can notice that I haven't paid for it. Cleaning the skin with a napkin, I quickly make my way to the back of the cafeteria and take my usual seat. I sit at the circular table that's directly in front of the large windows that overlook the quad and baseball and soccer fields. The rain has let up, and the sky is now a hazy gray with the sun trying to force its way through the clouds in a few places.

After lunch, I practically breeze through the rest of my classes. American Sign Language is easy and we sign about lunch items; specifically what we ate for lunch. _"For lunch, I ate an apple," _I sign to my partner. In AP English, we're assigned _Beowulf, _and I tackle a good chunk of it before the end of class, thanks to a speed-reading technique I mastered once, because I was so bored. After that, I'm in the art room for Art Appreciation, working on my sketching techniques.

At three-oh-five, the final bell rings, signaling the end of yet _another _tedious school day. Mrs. Winnow instructs the class to clean up their work stations before leaving, which I do in a hurry. I expect Kate to already be out by the curb, waiting for me. That notion is proved wrong, however, from the text message she sends as I'm on my way to my locker.

**From**: _Kate_  
_I'll be about a half-hour late. Sorry! I'll order takeout tonight to make up for it ok?_

I can't help but be won over by her offer.

**To**: _Kate_  
_Make it a meat lover's pizza from Tony's and it's a deal._

**From**: _Kate  
Done. You're a gem kiddo!_

I pocket my phone, make a pit stop at my locker, and head for the exit.

* * *

True to her word, Kate orders pizza and we stuff our faces for the better part of the evening, lounging about in the living room and watching re-runs of _Castle_. Afterwards, with my stomach satiated, I'm tempted just to lay back on the couch and nap. I'm tempted to dive into my subconscious and swim among the darkness. The thought of sleeping for a good ten hours or so, is so overwhelming, so tantalizing, that I can feel my body unconsciously lean back to succumb to the wanted escape.

Unfortunately, however, I have homework to do. _Damn it._

So, I excuse myself and escape up to my room, where I finish my remaining Calculus problems like a good little girl, successfully completing what I couldn't in class. Then, I change into a comfy pair of pajamas before relaxing back on my bed and cracking open _Beowulf,_ with every intent to read.

Of course, just my luck, I end up snoozing instead. I wake up to light knocking on my bedroom door, with _Beowulf_ resting on my chest and my body serving as the bookmark. I notice that I didn't even read a full ten pages.

I rub the sleep from my eyes as I heave myself upright, tossing the book aside and calling a faint, "Come in!"

Kate opens the door and steps in, and I notice she's dressed in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and an old Seattle U t-shirt. Her hair is clipped back at the nap of her neck, her black-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and she's holding the cordless phone in her left hand. I don't miss the peculiar expression on her face. "There's, uh, someone on the phone for you," she says slowly, as if she can't believe the words coming out of her own mouth.

I blink slowly, utterly confused. "Who?"

She raises her eyebrows. "A boy. You know him. Jacob Black?"

My mind is reeling. _Am I still sleeping?_ "Wait, _who_?"

"Jacob Black," she repeats, covering the end of the phone and lowering her voice as she continues to speak, a hint of incredulity in her tone. "This is the _third _time the kid's called. I tried to let you sleep, but he's persistent."

I gape at the phone as she extends it out to me to take, but I can only stare at it unblinkingly. This is unchartered territory for me - I do _not _get phone calls. Especially from guys - guys that are a thorn in my side like one _Jacob Black._

"Just talk to the boy, already," Kate demands, shoving the phone into my hand. "He's been anxious to talk to you..._obviously_," she adds as an afterthought before leaving the way she came.

I stare absentmindedly at the back of my bedroom door, slowly raising the phone to my ear, though I can't find any words to say. Besides, I thought I made it pretty clear yesterday that I _didn't _want to talk to him. After caving under Kate's patronizing glare, he sang like a canary. _Whimp._

"I can hear you breathing," came Jacob's amused voice through the phone. "I hope this isn't going to be a one-sided conversation."

I feel my eyes narrow into angry slits. _"How_ did you get this number?"

"Turns out you're listed," he responds breezily, followed by some rustling noises. "Lucky for me, though, 'cause there's not that many Grahams in Forks. Your number was the third on my list."

So, the boy decided to compile a list of numbers and call each one? _Could he be anymore cliche? _I sigh as I tuck a few stray curls behind the shell of my ear, flopping back on my pillows and staring up at my shadow-danced ceiling. "Why did you call me, Jacob?"

"'Why'?" he repeats, seemingly surprised by my question.

Well, I might as well stick to it since I've already asked. "Yeah. _Why _did you call here three times just to talk to me?"

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," he responds tersely, his tone irate. "Am I not _allowed _to do that?"

"I never said-" But I stop myself, sinking my teeth into my tongue to refrain myself from saying anything more.

My hand creeps up to the chain around my neck, tugging the locket from under my shirt and clutching it in my hand. It's my own way to calm down when I want to mentally count. The warm metal bites into my hand and I close my eyes, remembering the faces inside, how happy they look, smiling at me when I open the locket.

This would be when Will would say something witty, like, _"Your red is showing, Hales." _My brother _always _commented how the red in my hair would reel its ugly head whenever I get angry.

Jacob makes a sound that is something between a growl and a grunt. "You didn't have to say anything. You've made it obvious that you don't like me, Hayley. _I get it._"

"I don't not like you, okay?" I snap, only to be met with silence from the other end. So, I decide to elaborate, "Besides, I don't even _know_ you. So, how can I hate you?"

"Then _get_ to know me," Jacob suggests, his tone lighter. "I promise I'm not a bad guy."

And, somehow, I know that to be true. He's just been trying to lend me a helping hand, lately. He was also kind enough to drive me to the hospital, when I might not have made it on my own, which makes me feel even worse.

"I don't think that you are," I assure him. "But, I-"

"Do you want to know the answers to the questions that you asked me at the hospital?" Jacob suddenly speaks up, interjecting.

I can't help but huff, "You're not going to let this whole 'getting-to-know-you' thing go, are you?"

"Probably not," he responds smugly.

_Damn it._

"Look, Jacob, I don't think-"

"Shit, I gotta go," he cut in, only serving to grate on my nerves even more. Will I ever get a word in edgewise with this kid? "Maybe we can hang out sometime. I'll let you pick the time and place, okay?"

"Once _again, _I don't think that that's-"

"A bad idea? Yeah, me either," he enthuses.

"_God, _do you ever shut up?" I all but demand, my tone icy.

"Not really," he answers casually, unfazed by my irateness. "But you'll learn that soon enough... Oh, and Hayley? Thanks."

He ends the call before I can even ask what he's thanking me for.

* * *

**A\N**: I hope you guys like this chapter! I promise things will be set into motion _very _soon! Just please be patient with me!

Feedback is always welcome! I'd really like to hear from your guys! Thanks so much for the favorites/follows so far.

Have a great week!

-Dev.

**P.S. **Chapter has been edited!


	5. Chapter 4 - Internal Yearning

**|Hayley|**

I don't even realize I'm actually _awake _when I first regain consciousness the next morning. Forcefully, I start my morning routine in a hazy blur - too tired to move, really - still smiling, though. I note that I didn't wake up screaming from a nightmare like a normal morning. My nights are usually filled with scary, unseen moments coupled with the feeling of drowning, suffocation, or falling, and my mornings are oftentimes spent stripping the nervous sweat from my body as I try and calm my nerves before I face the rest of my day.

But today is _different_, and I'm not quite sure how to feel about that. So, I choose to reign in my emotions, and safely tuck them away in a corner of my chest where they can remain inconspicuous. Still, I can't figure out how I've managed to get away with such a wonderful, dreamless sleep. Ever since the accident, I've never had a good night's rest. _Until now._

I take a shower after rolling out of bed, since I didn't take one last night. The scorching water feels good as it pelts my bare back, undoing knots of stress embedded there just under my skin. I suppose it helps that this old farmhouse has great water pressure.

After washing away all of the soap and shampoo, I reach back and reluctantly turn off the showerhead. I grab a towel and wrap it around my dripping frame before exiting the bathroom. My skin erupts in goosebumps as the cold air of the house brushes over it, hastening my pace back to my room and throwing on some clothes.

I decide on a pair of light-blue jeans, a light green v-neck shirt that brings out my eyes, and a green beanie that I knitted myself during the summer.

It's down in the kitchen, when I'm halfway through my bowl of _Cheerios, _that I'm reminded of Jacob's call.

"So, about this boy, Jacob Black," Kate says, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

I choke on a mouthful of cereal. "W-What about him?"

She raises her eyebrow at me suggestively. "The kid called _three_ times, Hayley. He seemed pretty desperate to talk to you."

I simply shrug and stare intently into my bowl; I don't really know what Kate expects me to say. Besides, it isn't like I know what's going on in that boy's head. With her trusty mug of piping hot coffee in hand, Kate sits on the other side of the kitchen table and watches me speculatively. I pointedly ignore her.

"C'mon, Hayley," she urges, taking a sip of her drink. "Why don't you tell me about him?"

"Maybe because I don't _know _him," I tell her pointblank, wanting nothing more than to get off the topic of Jacob Black. His words from last night filter into my mind, echoing off the walls of my skull, _"Then get to know me. I promise I'm not a bad guy."_

"Well, he's from over in La Push, right?" Kate muses aloud, staring at me thoughtfully. I only nod my head in response, not wanting to encourage the continuity of this conversation. "And he's obviously Quileute..."

"Aunt Kate, _please,_" I cut in with an edge to my tone. Talking about boys with my aunt is the _last _thing I want to do this morning. Besides, Jacob Black isn't even on my radar.

Kate nods, forcing a smile, as I stand from the table and go over to rinse out my bowl. I know that she's scared for me. She's been scared for me since the day she discovered she was the legal guardian of a sixteen-year-old. Since then, she has changed her life to accommodate my needs. That's a hard thing to do when you're thirty-three, living in a college town, and your usual weekend consisted of spending the night out on the town without a care in the world.

Looking at the former sorority girl, the former party girl and former track star, I want to thank her for everything she's done for me - everything that she's sacrificed for me - in such a short amount of time. She transferred her job, she left her apartment, she broke off a two-year relationship; basically uprooted her whole life - all for me. Yet, I'm _still _treating her like a stranger when she's pretty much all I have left in the world.

I just want her to know how thankful I am, sometimes.

"I think I'm going to just walk to school this morning," I say aloud, needing some time alone to just mull things over.

"Are you sure?" came Kate's hesitant question. "Because you know I don't mind driving you."

"No, I know," I assure her, turning around and leaning back against the counter while crossing my arms. "And, besides, I've got some time to kill."

And so, I leave Kate to her coffee and some much needed alone time (it must be hell having to deal with someone like me all of the time).

I slip into my rain boots, toss my backpack over one shoulder, and I'm out the door without another word. As I descend the front porch steps, I notice how the air is still damp with the early morning dew. The sun is still low on the horizon, and the evening chill still blankets the front yard.

The driveway is lighted only by the small solar lamps that line the sides. They don't really cast much light, and I think about how my mother had my father set them up because of the way the small lantern-looking lamps hangs decoratively from the thin posts. My mom was always so concerned with how our yard looked. She often claimed that a person's front yard leaves an impression of the family inside the home. It always seemed silly to me. I mean, what did forsyhtia bushes and perennials say about my family when they were still alive? That we were colorful and well-groomed?

As I walk along the sidelines of the two-lane road, I kick some gravel with the tips of my boots. Walking won't exactly keep my mind off of things, but it enables me to think freely; to think infinitely without the worry that would no doubt be aimed at me from Kate.

I try to focus on the view as I amble along, admiring the greenery of everything. I've always loved the moss that covers the trees, their trunks, their branches hanging with a canopy of it. I suppose you could say it's a 'nice' day for Forks, considering that the well-known rain, that never fails to miss a day's worth of downpour, isn't present. Still, it's very dull - the clouds hang low in the sky, darkening the area with their immeasureable shadows - and I'm almost positive it will rain, again, soon.

I finally arrive at school with fifteen minutes to spare. There are some students milling about in the parking lot, some lounging on the hoods of vehicles and others in the beds of trucks. As I pass by a group of rowdy boys, decked out in letterman jackets, I feel my heart clench painfully at the sight of them. I recognize Troy Davis and Ethan Beal, two of my brother's best friends, from the bunch. The latter of the two catches my eye, and he cast me a faint smile. Reflexively, I return it before averting my gaze down to my feet as I continue on my way.

In normal circumstances, Will would be amongst those airheads and he'd pull me into the circle with them. I can practically picture the way he'd drape a protective arm across my shoulders and I can _almost _smell his aftershave and Irish spring soap; his signature aroma.

I can feel the familiar pinch at the back of my eyes, and I blink rapidly to try and keep the tears at bay. _Damn. _It's like no matter _where _I am, there are memories of _them _already there; just waiting to bombard me. But, honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way. Because it reminds me that they were once breathing, living beings; they were three people that I loved most in the world.

And feeling this excruciating pain is sure of a hell a lot better than forgetting.

* * *

**|Jacob|**

_This imprinting business is for the birds._

After running normal watch until one, I catch Hayley's scent and wind up skulking around in the woods that line the edge of her backyard for two extra hours. I can't help myself. She lives so close to the place where we first caught whiffs of the redheaded leech. I don't want to leave Hayley unprotected for one second, and I probably wouldn't have if Sam didn't order it.

_"Go home, Jacob," _Sam's stern voice echoed through the recesses of my mind. _"Get some rest. Hayley will still be there tomorrow."_

All of this is _irritating. _I don't get enough sleep as it is, and then this new need to keep this fragile girl safe is going to keep me out later than usual. I can't even begin to fathom how Sam or Jared deals with it.

_"Give it time_," Sam told me the day I came to him, right after driving Hayley home. I needed someone level-headed to talk to, so that they could persuade me not to phase and run back to her house and demand that she spend some time with me. "_The imprint is still fresh, Jacob. The level of adoration and affection you're already feeling for her is tenfold. It'll take her awhile to get to your level."_

And, even then, I know that Hayley's feelings still won't compare to mine. It's just so _frustrating._

But, I end up going home, even though every muscle in my body wants to stay, and my chest burns with a fierce desire to protect her. I can hardly stand it. Once again: completely aggravating.

After arriving home at three in the morning, and lying awake for another hour, worrying, all I want is to sleep. But I _need _to see Hayley. Unfortnattely, I'm forced back into bed by not only Quil and Embry, but also my own father. I tell them that I won't stay put until the guys agree to drive up to Forks to check on Hayley. It seems like _hours _before they call, and it's all I can do to keep myself from lifting the receiver to my ear every five seconds, to make sure it's connected.

"This is so stupid, Jake," Embry grumbles. "She's _your _imprint, so she'd rather see you here!"

And I want nothing more than to be there, dropping her off for school; to have her climb out of my Rabbit and cast me a loving smile, and waving, before disappearing into the building. I try to imagine all of the things we could talk about, and do together - the possibilities are endless. I want to know _everything _about this girl. I want to be able to openly admire her, and not try to hide these emotions stirring so strongly inside of me.

"I need to keep my distance right now, you idiot," I grit out, thoroughly pissed as my grip tightens on the phone. I need to keep my anger in check, or I'm going to have to replace the house phone for the _umpteenth _time this month. "How does she _look_?"

"Dude, I don't know! She looks fine, I guess... Wait, does she have red or brown hair?"

"It's _auburn,_ you dumbass," I retort, veering my eyes into a roll. At this rate, she could have two broken arms and Embry _still _wouldn't notice her.

"Oh, right," Embry mumbles in a 'duh' tone. "Well, yeah. That'd be her, I guess. Curly, reddish-brown hair, right? She's wearing a green top, jeans, rain boots-"

"Embry, _focus_," I stress to him. I'm not really interested in hearing about what she's wearing, especially since I can't be present to see it.

He sighs, obviously frustrated with me. _Well, tough shit, _I can't help but think irritably. When he imprints, he can run my ass as much as he wants, but that's only because we'll be able to relate more to each other then. "She looks kinda...sad," Embry answers with uncertainty.

I feel my gut clench tight as I picture Hayley's delicate features in my mind, only to have them be contorted and twisted into something that I'm better off not seeing. "O-Okay," I managed to respond, past the lump forming in the back of my throat. "Thanks, Em."

"Alright, then. Our job's done," Embry pipes in. "We'll be back on the rez in twenty-"

"The hell you will!" I bark, trying to keep my voice down so as to not gain any unwarranted attention from my dad. I can faintly hear the TV on in the living room, so he's probably too absorbed in whatever it is that he's watching to even notice me, but I don't want to risk it. "Listen, I want you and Quil to-"

"Give me the phone," I hear Quil intercede from the background, which is followed by a lot of rustling noises and some muffled complaints from Embry. "Jake, she's _fine. _We won't let anything happen to her, okay? We'll stand watch until the high school lets out. The Babysitter's Club is on the job, so shut up and get your ass to bed." _Click. _He hangs up on me.

My anxiety eases slightly, and I'm able to sleep for a couple of hours, but when I wake up it's one-thirty and I put my foot down. I'm going to Forks, despite my father's protests, to check in on Hayley.

I act quick and scoop up an old v-neck shirt and shrug it on to cover my bare, upper torso, but not without sniffing the article of clothing first to make sure it's suitable to wear. I grab my car keys from my dresser and I'm out the door, only pausing in the small living room to inform my dad that I'm just heading out for some fresh air and I'll be back soon. I don't even bother to check and see if he believes it, because I'm too focused on a certain girl.

It's as I'm driving toward Forks that I think about how masochistic it is of me, rushing to see someone when the look on their face makes my heart throb. This whole thing with Hayley doesn't make much sense. But I know - I can _feel_ \- that she's my imprint. Everything is pulling me towards her, and there's nothing in me that's fighting against it.

Embry and Quil look none too surprised to see me as I pull my Rabbit up behind the green Camry that they're sitting in, parked just off the shoulder of the road across from the school. I kill the engine and climb out, walking up to the driver's side of the car just as Embry's rolling down his window and sticking his head out to stare up at me with an incensed expression marring his face.

"Dude, you couldn't wait another _fifteen minutes?"_ he demanded while brandishing his wallet from the back pocket of his cutoffs. I watch on in amusement as he retrieves a crinkled ten dollar bill and slaps it into Quil's outstretched palm.

"Nice doing business with you," Quil remarks smugly, before pocketing the money.

"Oh, shut up," Embry mumbles dryly.

"You should know not to bet against an imprint, idiot," Quil snorts, veering his eye into a roll. "The shapeshifter's need to be near the object of their imprint is too strong. Haven't you learned _anything _from Sam and Jared's thoughts?"

"Are you two knuckleheads done yet?" I inquire curtly, not entirely pleased with them, while crossing my arms over my chest. Besides, Hayley means much more to me than some 'object' - I definitely don't like what Quil refers to her as.

"So, now that you're here, does this mean we're off Imprint Duty?"

I growl at Embry's question. "Get your asses back to the rez before I kick 'em there!" My reaction earns me howls of laughter from my _supposed _best friends, before they're speeding off down the road. I'd definitely be 'talking' to the two of them later about this.

For now, though, I'm content with waiting out here for Hayley.

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, hello! :) How are you beautiful people?

So, I've decided to do Jacob's POV every now and again... I hope I've done him justice in this chapter! I'm no Stephenie Meyer, so it's not going to be perfect. But still, I hope I've depicted the essence that is Jacob Black. :)

It's in the next chapter that things get rollin'! So, yay for progress! Haha.

I'm sorry if it seems this story is going too slow, but I don't plan on making my characters rush in to anything. I want to make this as realistic as possible, so I hope you all understand that. :D

By the way, I'd like to hear from you guys! Please don't hesitate to leave a review and let me know your thoughts! Or, if you have any questions about my story! :)

Thanks so much for the support, so far (i.e. reviews/follows/favorites)! It's greatly appreciated and inspires me to keep writing. :)

Until the next chapter!

-Dev.

**P.S. **Chapter has been edited.


	6. Chapter 5 - Beginning of Something

**|Hayley|**

The first part of the school day passes by in a hazy blur - a giant, hazy blur of faces and words. Uneventful, really.

Well, until my American Sign Language class, when an office attendant walks into the room and hands Mr. Penn a pale blue slip of paper. He signs, _"Thank you," _before she leaves with an exasperated expression on her face. He looks at it, signs my name, and I'm off to the guidance counselor's office for some reason unbeknownst to me.

_Should I be worried?_

I really hope this has nothing to do with the accident. The last thing I need is to _'talk about my feelings' _like I've been advised since the passing of my family. I already got out of seeing one shrink, I really don't want to trouble myself with the objective of dodging another one.

Mr. Stone, the guidance counselor assigned to talk to my class, had his door closed when I walked down the hall. I hate disturbing others, but I knock quietly and politely; waiting for him to wave me in through the tiny window on the door.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" I ask after poking my head into the tiny office, noticing the clutter accumulated throughout his employment. There's a plant hanging in the corner that desperately needs water - it's turning brown and drooping - but I seriously doubt he notices. There's a stack of books, several stacks in fact, in the corner of the room. His desk is too big for the office, but I don't think he minds. He's not one to notice things like that. He's bit of a scatterbrain.

_How did he even manage to get this job, anyways?_

"Ah, yes. Come in, Hayley." Mr. Stone sets aside the folder in his hand he was looking through and points to a green pleather chair in front of his desk. "Take a seat, please."

I sit down, crossing my legs at the knees. I've left my backpack back in class, so now I'm trying to find something to fidget with. If this is going to be a discussion about what I _think_ it's going to be, then I'll _definitely _need something to distract me so as to not let anything incriminating show. I wonder about if I _do _decide to just break down in this man's office, would they really send me to one of _those _hospitals? A place where everything is infinitely white and all of the objects are screwed to the floor so that there's no chance of me hurting myself...

I shiver.

"So, what's this about?" I ask, also a little worried that I may have done something _else _wrong, though I haven't got a clue as to what. I haven't injured or threatened anyone. I've turned in my homework, I've complied by the rules, and I haven't snapped at anyone.

"Just touching base with you," he tells me, folding his hands in his lap. For a guidance counselor, Mr. Stone looks young enough to understand teen issues, but I strongly doubt that he'd understand _my generation_, whatever that really means. "Just to see how everything is going."

"Fine," I answer as plainly as possible.

"I can tell." I'm not sure if I should take that sarcastically... He grabs the file - it must be mine - and opens it, flipping through the multicolored pages inside. I always thought that since the accident, my folder would thicken into this five-inch thick brick of paper. I guess I've been wrong, or that's not my entire folder. "You're pulling straight A's."

"I know," I say cockily, with a polite smile. If you're going to be cocky about something you're good at - _'confident' _is the word I prefer to use - it's better to show that you're at least nice about it.

"I've been meaning to talk to you since the beginning of last week," he continues, running his palm along his forehead.

"What about?" I ask with interest.

"It has come to my attention, Hayley, that you haven't started sending in any applications for college yet," he begins, pulling out a sheet of pale yellow paper from the file folder, his eyes skimming over it. "Have you thought about where you would like to attend?"

I can only shrug. "Not really," I answer simply. And I honestly haven't. For the first few months after the accident, I couldn't even picture the next day, much less what would happen to me after graduating high school. Of course I talked about it with my parents, and they both encouraged me to further my education. But now?

_I'm not so sure._

"You have excellent grades, Hayley," Mr. Stone stated reasonably. "The only area you seem to be lacking in is your extracurriculars. Weren't you on the staff of the school newspaper just last year...?"

_...and the school yearbook, pep club, and the National Honor Society. _"What's your point, sir?" I wonder aloud, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. I don't want to seem rude, because Mr. Stone is only doing what his job requires, but this man is just making things more difficult than they really have to be. I've been okay with just _being. _Besides, the _only_ reason I was in _any _of those clubs was because of my parents.

"I think you should get involved, again," Mr. Stone tells me, matter-of-fact. "You'd be surprised by how much extracurricular activities look good on a college application."

"And..." I draw out, waiting for the words in my head to make sense. They're jumbled and scattered, like puzzle pieces, slowly moving until they make a complete picture, "...what if I told you that I'm not really interested in going to college." I don't mean it as a question, but he answers anyway.

"Then I'd have to say that you're selling yourself short," he responds sincerely, steepling his hands. "You have a bright mind, Hayley; it'd be a shame to let it go to waste."

I can only heave a sigh, my eyes flickering down to the patch of multi-flecked carpet between my boots. There is so much to consider, so much that I need to think through that I haven't even thought about. _How can I even think about the future - graduating high school, going off to college, and starting a new chapter in my life - when I'm not done living in the past? _I've always been told, by family and friends, that I would be going places, that they were _certain _I would be destined for something greater than this place, I just never knew that the people I love most wouldn't be there to help me along the way.

"I see I've given you a lot to think about," Mr. Stone surmises, clearing his throat.

I lick my chapped lips and bring my gaze back up to his. "Yes, sir," I answer thickly.

"Well, then," he begins, clapping his hands together, "I'll give you some time, just to mull things over, and we should meet up again - say, middle of next week? - to decide where to go from here."

I can only nod, and then I leave the guidance counselor's office before giving in to the anguish that's washing over my body.

I decide to wait until I can duck into the nearest girl's bathroom for that.

I triple-check every stall for feet and then go over to the sinks, grasping the countertop, and stare at my reflection in the mirror anchored to the wall. The girl looking back at me _looks _familiar, but I feel as if I don't _know_ her. Not anymore, at least. This girl is empty, just a hallowed out shell of what she used to be.

_Of what _I _used to be._

At this realization, my body becomes cold and the air quickly leaves my lungs. The lack of oxygen flowing through my body causes me to hyperventilate and makes me dizzy. The room swirls around me as my knees try and give way, but it won't do if I faint in the girls bathroom.

Visions of bright lights, shattering glass, and the sickening snap of bones breaking fills my mind. I quickly try to think of something else, things that calm me: the way it feels to walk in the grass barefooted, the smell of chimney smoke on a cold morning, the sounds of crickets at night... Eventually, my thoughts soothe me and my breathing is regular once more and my body is now warm. But the hurt and loss is still there, just throbbing under the surface.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I run my hands roughly through my hair, knocking my beanie from my head, and my curls cling to my fingers as I bunch my hair in my closed fists, feeling the anger and worry surge through me. It's a brief current coursing through my veins, then I'm tired, exhausted from everything.

I spend my last two class periods in a daze, not really absorbing anything. More than once do my teachers call me out for not paying them any attention, to which I mumble an apology and go back to staring blankly ahead to appease them, rather than down at my desk or out the window to the scenery beyond.

By the time the last bell sounds, I'm _more _than ready to get out of there.

I go along with the flow of foot traffic, until I make it to my locker and quickly exchange my books before making a beeline for the nearest set of double doors. Walking outside into the gray daylight, I sigh softly and bring my arms up to wrap around my torso as my eyes scan the curb for Kate's Civic. After not spotting the black car, I plant myself on a nearby bench and retrieve my phone to send her a quick text.

**To**: _Kate_  
_Hey where are you?_

As I wait for a response, I watch as the student parking plot slowly empties out. I find myself missing my old truck among them. The old blue monster didn't stand out because most of the cars that belongs to the students are older models. The only flashy vehicle in the parking lot is a silver Volvo, belonging to the one and only Edward Cullen.

Actually, the Cullen family have their own little collection of over-the-top vehicles. And, of course, this caught a lot of people's attention, _especially _when the family first moved down here from Alaska three years ago.

Speaking of, two members of the aforementioned family (the ones that have yet to graduate) are now walking out of the building. Alice, the little pixie-like girl, looks as though she's practically dancing as she walks alongside her flawless brother, Edward. Though the two are adopted, I can't help but take in their similarities: alabaster skin, ocher eyes, purplish bruise-like circles under their eyes, perfect angular features... _It's almost unfair that someone can be so beautiful._

Just then, as if on cue, Edward's head whips around and his eyes narrow in my direction. I feel my body freeze, suddenly paranoid that he's heard my thoughts. But I'm quick to notice he's staring at something behind me.

"Want some company?" I jump at the timid voice, and I whip my head around to see none other than Jacob Black standing just a few feet from me, on the sidewalk. His lips are curled upwards, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth, to form a sheepish smile. He's wearing a black t-shirt that emphasizes his muscles perfectly, a pair of faded blue jeans and sneakers that look worse for wear. His short, inky hair is slightly gelled and his skin looks almost a dusty bronze color.

"What are you doing here?" the words spill from my mouth before I can even think twice about it, and they're cutting. Jacob flinches at my unexpected question, which sounds more like an accusation.

"I-I was just, uh...," he trails off, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck in an awkward fashion. It's such an oddity to see a boy like Jacob Black so _unsure_ of himself. "Sorry...I just..._damn..._I'm not good with words," he mumbles pitifully running his hand over his face exasperatedly.

"Don't strain yourself," I quip reflexively, not realizing how biting I sound. _This is why I don't have friends._

Jacob's face hardens, and his gaze flattens, his nostrils flaring a little. It's obvious he doesn't appreciate my insensitive remark. "This was a mistake," he says gruffly, backing away slowly.

I heave a sigh, watching as he turns his back to me, but not before seeing the forlorn look in his dark orbs. Guilt churns my stomach from that one look. "Jacob, wait," I voice while pushing myself to my feet, stepping forward, reaching out and placing my hand on the back of his shoulder blade. I can feel the muscles tense under my palm, and the warmth his skin emanates seep through the material of his shirt.

He stays facing away from me, though his head turns just enough so that he can see me from his peripheral vision. "What?"

"I'm sorry," I tell him lowly, licking my lips. "I've just...had a bad day." _It's the half-truth._

I jerk my hand back as he turns about, his features softening as his eyes flicker over my face. "Do you want to talk about it?" he questions hopefully.

_This kid is giving me whiplash with his sudden mood swings. _I blink slowly, trying to think of a way to turn down his offer _nicely. _"Um, not really," I say, almost regretting it at seeing his crestfallen expression. He looks as though I've just punched him in the gut. "Besides, it's kind of a long story..."

This is just what he wants to hear. "Lucky for you, I've got the time."

* * *

Jacob's miniscule car sputters down the winding streets of Forks with the front windows down. The warm, late summer air whips wisps of my curly hair across my face, tangling the long strands that escapes the ponytail that I've secured at the nape of my neck. Frowning, I yank at the elastic and try in vain to capture the offending strands for a second time.

I've noticed that with each movement I've made thus far, Jacob would cast me sidelong glances and just watch me. It almost has seemed as if the kid's _studying _me. The intent look in his eyes, and the seriousness of his face, has had me shifting uncomfortably in my seat practically the whole time I've been in his car. Almost like I did back in Mr. Stone's office, but for completely different reasons.

"Sorry about the A/C," I manage to hear Jacob say over the classic rock music practically blaring through the speakers. I vaguely recognize the song to be _Angel_, by Aerosmith. "But it'll take more than just _Freon _to fix this ol' hunk-a-junk, and I can't exactly afford the parts I'd need."

He's trying to find an opening - to see what I might be interested in talking about with him. Well, it _isn't _going to work. I outright refuse to talk cars with Jacob Black. "It's fine," I dismiss his apology quickly, shrugging, before settling back in the seat and staring at the road stretched out in front of us.

If I'm being honest with myself, though, I _enjoy _being in Jacob's company. He's still somewhat of a stranger to me, and he doesn't know anything about my past, so he doesn't have to act as though he's walking on nails around me. And he doesn't stare at me like I'm some sort of freak-show, or offer me any of his pity. It's almost..._refreshing._

And yet, despite how much I seem to like being around this kid, I can't let myself to just _be _around him. I believe it's also because there's great potential for us to become friends, and I strive to not have a lot of people in my life that I have to lie to. _The less people I have to hurt, the better._

All too soon, Jacob is pulling into my driveway. I stare up at the old white house in dismay, not exactly too thrilled to be left to my own devices. Being left alone in an empty house is sure to set my emotions loose; I won't have anything to keep my attention from returning to that very place I hate most, those consequential thoughts and the feeling of emptiness that always tends to follow.

It's strange how when I _wish _I have a load of homework, to at least keep my mind preoccupied, I get assigned zilch.

"We're here," Jacob announces absently, putting his car into park and dropping his hands away from the steering wheel and onto his thighs.

_As if I didn't notice. _"So we are," I murmur, unbuckling myself and reaching for my bag from the floorboard, between my feet. "Thanks, by the way. For the ride."

"No problem."

It's just as I'm in the process of stepping out of the car when a thought occurs to me, and I decide to act fast before I can give myself a chance to second guess my decision.

"Say, do you want to come in?" I ask Jacob, ducking my head to peer back into the vehicle at him. I'm not sure if asking him in too soon is the right thing to do, but I feel content with him around, and I don't want to lose that just yet. "My aunt isn't home," I add as an afterthought, though I'm not quite sure why.

The look of pure happiness on his face is undeniable, but he seems hesitant all the same. "Are you sure? Because I don't want to intrude."

"Sure, I'm sure," I insist, nodding my head. "Besides, you _did _say I get to name the time and place for when we hang out, right?"

His throaty chuckle is music to my ears as he cut the car engine off, extracting the keys from the ignition. "That I did."

* * *

**A/N**: Hey, all! :) Well, this chapter is where things start moving! So yay for progress, am I right?

Anywho, I'm really trying to plan out the rest of this story, because I want to see it to the very end. I don't want to be one of those authors who start something, and never finish.

Have a good week!

Until the next update,

-Dev.

**P.S.** Chapter has been edited!


	7. Chapter 6 - The Truth Hurts

**|Hayley|**

I stand a few feet behind Jacob, watching as he peers around the house, inspecting what surrounds him. The walls of the living room are covered in pictures - my aunt's way of keeping my family in my life. He peeks at the photos, spotting me as a little kid; me as a baby, being held by my mother, and another one of me and my brother playing on First Beach, he was sticking a starfish to my cheek.

It isn't until someone _else _looks at these photos that I realize how awkward of a child I was. It's like I'm seeing myself through his eyes. Something I never want to do again. I feel like he's judging me with every glance, every blink, like these pictures can tell him exactly _who _I am.

I've searched them for the same reason, never finding an answer to that question.

"Find anything interesting yet?" I ask aloud, trying not to come off as rude. I'm suddenly regretting the decision of leaving him alone for a few minutes so that I can get us drinks.

Jacob jumps slightly at the sound of my voice, almost as if he's forgotten that I'm here. "Uh, just looking," he admits timidly, shoving his hands in his pockets innocently.

I offer him a reassuring smile as I move forward and stand alongside him, handing him a can of _Coke,_ which he graciously takes before going back to glancing at the pictures. "This one looks like you," he tells me while pointing to a silver framed photo. I already know which one he's talking about, and I tell myself not to look. To just agree with him and move on to another subject, but I can't help it - I want to see _them._

The picture that Jacob is currently looking attentively at is one of my parents - not much older than I am now - posing for the camera. They were on an outing in the park, sitting on a red-and-white plaid blanket; my father's arm is draped across my mother's shoulder, pulling her into his side, and her face is partially buried into the crook of his neck. The happiness and contentment in this picture is undeniable.

"Um...," I swallowed the lump that's formed in my throat quickly. "Yeah... That's my mom." I hope he doesn't notice my hesitancy to answer.

"Ah," is all he vocalizes. There is a short silence before he speaks again, trying to lighten the mood. "It's easy to tell where you get your good looks from."

I can't help but smile a little at that. "Yeah, she was pretty." I trace my finger along the frame, admiring the photo, only to freeze when I realize my slip-up. I said _'was.' _I glance back at Jacob quickly, hoping he hasn't noticed the past tense in my meaning.

His body is taut, as if he's thinking about it. Luckily, however, he doesn't ask me about it.

* * *

Jacob stays for the rest of the evening, opting to help me with some of the chores around the house that I have yet to complete. I decline his offer, at first, because I can't help but think that this kid has something better to do with his spare time than spend it with someone like _me. _He adamantly insists, though, and I can't find it in myself to deny him.

"What do you say to a game of Truth?" Jacob suggests as I hand him a plate to dry, eyeing him precariously. We've been washing dishes for the past ten minutes and have yet to exchange one word with the other. "Y'know, as a way to break the ice."

"Okay," I agree easily enough, shrugging and nodding.

Jacob grins, seemingly pleased. "There's only one rule: you have to answer every question with the truth. Doesn't sound so hard, does it?"

I raise my eyebrows at his last remark. "You'd be surprised," I murmur, staring down into the soapy suds in the sink.

"You start," he informs me, bumping his arm against mine. Though it's only for a millisecond, I can feel the heat from his body seep through my clothes, skin and settle into my bones.

"Let's see...," I trail off, trying to think of a safe question. "What's your favorite color?"

He rolls his eyes, laughing. "Oh, come _on, _Hayley. Give me a real question."

"That _is _a real question!" I retort.

"Fine," he scoffs, obviously disappointed that I choose not to cave. "My favorite color is blue. What's yours?"

"Purple," I respond cheerfully. "When's your birthday?"

"January fourteenth. Why won't you ask me more personal questions?"

I cast him a sidelong glance as I pass him a glass in the process. "Maybe because I think it's easier this way. _Why _do you want me to?"

He appears thoughtful for a moment, mulling over his answer, and says, "Maybe because I want you to get to know me better, and vice-versa. Why are you hedging?"

I sigh as I look up into Jacob's eyes, and I already know that I can't lie to this boy. I'm not sure as to why, but every fiber in my body is screaming at me to tell him the _truth. _So, I go with, "Because I don't like talking about myself." And that _is _the truth, just of a different variety. "Why do you seem so interested in me, all of a sudden?"

Now, it's Jacob's turn to seem reluctant to respond. "It's...complicated," he finally answers warily.

"Try me," I challenge, my curiosity piqued, as I turn on the faucet and rinse my hands off before angling my body towards him. "Besides, I know _all _about things being 'complicated.'"

Jacob laughs breathily before scratching the back of his neck, trying to find his words. "Right. Well, the day you wrecked, and I found you, I just... I dunno. I guess when you looked at me, you just seemed _lost. _I just want to know why._"_

"No, you don't," I assure him, my voice low. I clutch the edge of the counter uncomfortably, desperately trying to hold back the tears that are welling up in my eyes now. I can feel the hysteria already fighting with my insides - fight to be let loose. My breathing is starting to lose rhythm, picking up speed, like I'm going to hyperventilate at any moment, and my sight starts to blur. The cold, harsh ache in my chest begins to throb and my hands are trembling.

"Whoa, hey," Jacob murmurs soothingly, his tone husky, as he places a hand on my forearm. His unusual warmth automatically causes the chillness in my body to ebb away. "Hayley?"

My eyes are now closed, so I can't see his face, but worry is the easiest emotion to identify in his voice. It sticks out like a wrong note in a gentle melody. "Hayley? Are you alright?"

I'm silent still, trying to pick the best time to interrupt my breathing.

"Y-Yeah," I managed to wheeze out, griping the counter to keep my body upright.

"I don't believe you," Jacob states simply, and I can feel his body heat more strongly now as he moves closer. "You look pale; maybe you should sit down."

"That's because I _am _pale. Compared to you, anyways," I quip, earning me a low chuckle from him. "Besides, I'm f- _ah_!" I gasp as the floor suddenly disappears from below my feet and I'm being cradled in Jacob's capable arms, his warmth surrounding me as a protective barrier. With a swiftness that nearly takes my breath away, he's ambling out of the kitchen and wandering through the lower level of the house.

"Jacob, _please _put me down," I beseech pitifully, feeling my stomach churning. I _don't _want to vomit all over this boy.

"Just one more second," he mumbles into my hair, and then shifts the position of my body slightly so that I'm leaning more into him. "Now, are you comfortable?"

I slowly open my eyes, surprised to find myself perched on Jacob's lap, as we sit on the brown leather couch in the living room. Without so much as realizing what I'm doing, I rest my head on his shoulder and inhale deeply through my nose. Jacob's scent is earthy - woodsy and musky - and it does wondrous things to my senses that leaves me feeling deliriously content.

"Yes," I finally answer his question, sighing. "You're so _warm." _It feels like I'm sitting next to a crackling fire, and I want nothing more than to shift even closer into his embrace. But, of course, I don't. Because then that would only serve to encourage this kid to react accordingly, and I don't want to put any false ideas into his head. _It just wouldn't be fair._

"Let's see what's on TV," Jacob suggests, scooping up the remote control from the end table and hitting the power button, setting it in motion. I'm very much _aware _of Jacob's nearness as he begins sifting through the channels for anything remotely interesting to watch. Eventually, he settles on a some ridiculous sitcom that looks _far _from funny, but at least it fills the void that the silence has created between us.

It's just as I think about repositioning myself next to Jacob on the couch, that I feel his arm tighten around my waist. I can only huff and cross my arms, wondering if he has some mind reading ability that I don't know about.

_"Relax,_ Hayley," Jacob murmurs in my ear, his breath fanning against the side of my face.

_Easier said than done. _I can only whimper in response; I do _not _like the effect he has over me. Jacob acts as though holding me like this is nothing short of natural. He seems so at peace with himself, and he's even rubbing comforting circles on my arm with his thumb.

"Why are you doing this?" I all but whisper, gazing up at Jacob through my eyelashes.

Three different emotions crosses his face in quick successions, his eyes boring into mine. The first is surprise, the second one I don't recognize, and the third is resolve. He slowly lets his arms fall away, and I'm left feeling awkward and cold. A slight tremor racks through my body as I reluctantly peel myself away from him and situate myself on the couch cushion next to him.

I flush at my own audacity. "I'm sorry," I say curtly, noticing his pinched expression.

"Don't be," Jacob says, his voice a bit hoarse. He rubs his face with both hands before looking at me again, his features now smoothed out. "I tend to be too forward, sometimes."

I offer him a small smile, not really able to find it within myself to be annoyed at him. "You were only trying to help," I say, shrugging.

"But still," he grumbles, clenching his hands. "It's something I'm going to try and control." His voice is cryptic, and another awkward silence follows. I try to mentally decipher the meaning behind his words, but to no avail.

Finally, he pushes himself up to his feet and retrieves his phone from his pocket - probably checking for the time since it's only for a second. He sighs. "I think I should get going. My dad's probably wondering where I am."

"_Oh,_" I breathe, casting my eyes down to my lap, a little miffed that he has to leave. "Well, I'll see you out," I offer, standing to my feet and following him to the door as he fishes out his keys.

Jacob opens the front door and steps out onto the porch, only to whirl around and his eyes catch mine. I can't look away - his eyes are boring into mine with an unreadable emotion so intense that it makes my stomach tingle. "Can I see you again?" his asks, almost in a whisper.

"I, uh... I'm not sure," I answer uncertainly, though I know he can see me at any time, seeing as how I don't exactly have much of a social life anymore.

"Hayley." He's obviously frustrated as he takes my right hand between both of his hands. They're too warm, but I can't help but sigh in bliss. "Don't block me out, okay? _Please_."

I sigh, feeling completely disgusted with myself. "Jacob, I-"

"Jake," he tells me insistingly, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the back of my hand. "My friends call me Jake."

_Jake_.

Somewhere in the woods, a wolf howled, the only sound in the growing silence between us. Jacob looks toward the back of my house for a second, a look of consternation on his face, as he releases my hand again. "Look, Hayley, I have to go. I'm late."

"Late...?"

He only nods his head, not bothering to elaborate on it. "But, I want you to know, I really liked hanging out with you today." He meets my eyes again. "Maybe next time, things won't be so heavy, and I'll get to know more about you."

"Jake, listen to me," I begin, an edge in my tone. I need to tell him that I'm not _good _at making friends, or keeping them. I haven't had anything remotely close to a friend since the accident, and I've grown accustomed to that.

Another howl sounded through the woods.

"Alright, I'd better go," Jacob resolves, though he doesn't move from his spot. "Do you have a ride to school tomorrow?"

I can only shake my head.

"Okay. I'll swing by around seven-thirty to pick you up," he assures me, suddenly breaking out into a breathtaking smile that reaches his eyes. "Bye, Hales."

I watch after his retreating figure as he jogs over to his car and clambers in. He starts the engine and I find myself waving after him as he reverses out of my driveway and disappears down the road.

It takes me awhile for me to find motion; I simply stare into the distance and think about today. _About Jacob. _About the feeling I get when he looks me in the eyes - it's so overwhelming - but I'm not sure what to make of it.

Eventually, I wander back inside and close the door behind me. I suddenly feel a strange pang of emptiness creeping over me now that Jacob is gone, and immediately begin wishing that he could be here. I know that trying to be friends with this boy is a mistake; it will only make things _that _much harder when I'm alone - away from him. And, tonight, is going to be almost impossible to get through.

And I'm right, though not completely.

It's the first night I've slept through without waking up in a sheen of sweat coating the top layer of my skin. The first night that my dreams are free of the nightmare that has haunted me repeatedly. Instead, I see _his _face - Jacob's.

I smile.

* * *

**A/N**: This is probably my favorite chapter to date! Even though it's on the short side, I think it offers a lot to the plot... I mean, things actually _happen_, am I right?! :) lol.

Anyways, I want to apologize for the lateness on the third chapter for COF. I'm still in the process of writing it. And, honestly, the updates for that story will be a little slower than this one, but that's just because I've decided to sort of combine the two. But I promise, I _do _plan on writing more chapters and posting them! So, yay for that! :D

Thanks so much for the reviews/favorites/follows! Y'all are so awesome! I love to read your reactions and see your perspective of the story! So, _**please** _keep the feedback coming! Reviews feed my inspiration/muse! Lol.

Have a good week!

-Dev.


	8. Chapter 7 - First Signs of Insanity

**|Jacob|**

I've found it - found her. My soulmate, my _imprint. _

But I'm still at a complete loss of what to do.

Hayley Graham is broken, and it scares the hell out of me. That sadness, that utterly _destroyed _look in her eyes... I'm scared because I can see through it, and she needs fixing. _God, does she need fixing. _It's in her carefully blank expression, and the way she moves. She doesn't like being touched, that makes her flinch. If anyone does, or says anything, _too _suddenly, or surprises her in _any _way, she nearly jumps out of her own skin.

She tries so hard to keep a wall up, to stop people from seeing, but every now and then there is a flicker of doubt. And there is also fear.

_"What are you afraid of?" _I want to ask. "_What can I do?" _

I can't seem to put my head together and think of something _decent _to say to her, and I know that following my instincts is the _last _thing I need to do. That's why I head straight to Sam and Emily's after leaving Hayley's house. I reduce my speed to a steady pace when I spot a familiar blue door in the distance, and the brightly-colored flowers.

The light is on, so I know that they're still up, but it feels wrong to intrude so late. After parking my car in the drive, I reluctantly climb out and make my way to the front door.

Just as I'm about to knock, Sam opens the door; he's obviously not pleased by my presence. "What do you want, Jacob?" he asks flatly.

I let my arm drop to my side, trying to look anywhere but at him. "I need to talk to you," I mumble.

A beat, and then, "Is this about Hayley?"

"_Mmm_," I murmur in response, the mention of her name stirring something inside of me. Something instinctual.

He opens the door wider and motions for me to enter. "Emily in bed?" I ask conversationally as Sam follows me through the house and into the living room, where the old television set is flashing quietly and the table lamp gives off a soft glow in the corner. This place is definitely a fixer-upper, like a lot of homes on the rez, but it definitely has a homely quality that you just can't pass up. Which is why a lot of guys from the pack spend a _lot _of time here.

"Yeah," he answers shortly while plonking himself down onto the faded, leather sofa and picking up the remote, flicking through the channels carelessly. "Now, tell me what's eating you. You already mentioned it's about Hayley..."

I take a deep breath. "Right, yeah," I murmur, sighing, running my fingers through my hair. "This isn't getting any easier with her, Sam. All I want is to be near her - _all _the time! I just came from her house, but if I could I'd run straight back to her _right now_."

Sam stares up at me sympathetically. "Jake, you know she-"

"Yes," I interrupt, already knowing where he's going with his little spiel before he can even really begin to tell me. "I _know _that she doesn't feel near as intensely as I do, but surely she has to feel _something _towards me... _Right_?"

"I can't answer for her, Jacob," he tells me pointedly, shrugging. "Besides, anything more I have to say on the matter isn't going to make it any easier. Your feelings will only get stronger the more you get to know her, and it's up to _you _on how to handle things. All I can really do is explain what imprinting really means and warn you to be careful. Of course, you already know about all of that."

I give him a who-the-hell-do-you-think-I-am look and shake my head. "I'm not stupid, Sam. I'd _never _dream of hurting her."

"Right," he murmurs, giving a weak laugh. "That's not really what I'm implying. Sure, there is an issue of phasing in front of her - you've seen what happened with Emily." His voice is tight now, and I flinch at the memory I've seen from his thoughts. "But I know you're sensible enough not to do something like that. Unlike someone we both know."

"Paul," I answer without hesitancy.

"What I'm saying is," Sam continues, "is that you don't want to force her into anything she's not ready for."

"Well, _obviously. _But I thought that imprinting was supposed to make _both _sides of the relationship feel something, not just one. Why do I feel like the crazy one?"

Sam chuckles, clapping me on the back. "Welcome to the club, brother," he jokes, shaking his head. "Honestly, Jake, you're not. It just takes time for these feelings to develop, _especially_ since they're of a strong nature. But it'll turn out good in the end, you'll see."

An awkward silence ensues between us as I ponder over his speech. Imprinting isn't absolute, I know that; but I know that it _does _guarantee that a shape-shifter finds their perfect half. But the possibility of Hayley rejecting me, if she chooses to, scares me to death and I can't help but panic at the thought.

"Distract me," I mutter, feeling my throat constrict and my heart to clench painfully inside of my chest.

"What?"

"I just... I can't think straight right now, Sam," I tell him, my tongue feeling like sandpaper.

"Believe it, or not, imprinting _is _mind over matter," he says methodically. "You just have to focus, and not succumb to the desire of wanting to be near her. It's hard - practically _torture - _to stay away, but you _can _do it."

_But I don't_ want_ to._

I can only grunt as I stare at the wall absently, thinking of nothing but Hayley.

I leave Sam's house feeling as confused as I first felt upon arrival. As I drive down the winding, two lane road, every fiber in my body is screaming at me to ditch my car on the side of the road, shift, and run back to Forks. Just to check on her, even though I don't sense anything remotely dangerous nearby. Honestly, I'm just using that as an excuse so that I can be close to her.

By the time I get home, all the lights are out, though the porch light is still on. I can't help but smile at that - this is something my father has done since I first shifted a few months ago.

I have to hunch down to enter through the front door, and I can hear my dad's steady breathing from the back of the house; a telltale sign that he's already asleep. I figure that grabbing something to eat, and going to bed myself isn't such a bad idea.

Only, the fridge is empty, along with every other cupboard in the kitchen that stores food. I guess it's been a while since my dad, or myself, has made a grocery run. I make a mental note to go to the store before making a beeline for my room. But when I attempt to fall asleep, I can do nothing but toss and turn restlessly, and hope that tomorrow will come soon.

* * *

**|Hayley|**

It's hard getting Kate out the front door the next morning. I try to rush her through her usual morning routine, but it's a little slow going. Besides, I don't want to be _too _overbearing or I might raise suspicion; it's better if she _doesn't _know about Jacob coming, because then I'll never hear the end of it.

After waving her off from the front porch, I re-enter the house and rush around like a chicken with its head cut off. I take a shower in record time and throw on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved, purple tee. I then run a comb through my sopping curls and slather on a little bit of makeup, before descending the stairs once more so that I can scrounge up something for breakfast.

I end up swallowing a granola bar in three bites and chase it down with some milk straight from the carton. After slipping into my rain boots, and shoulder my backpack, I'm out the door once more. It's just as I'm locking the door behind me that I hear a car coming up the road.

My heart thuds, sputters, and then picks up again in double time. I slowly turn to glance over my shoulder, and I can't stifle back a small smile at the sight of Jacob's old car turning into my driveway. There's just something..._right _about seeing him here.

"G'Morning," he greets casually, casting me a breathtaking smile, as he climbs out from behind the wheel. He rounds the front of the car to open the passenger door, waiting expectantly. "Sorry, by the way, if I'm a little late."

He looks amazing, in a simplistic kind of way, dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a faded _Nirvana _band t-shirt. It really isn't fair that someone can manage to look so _good _without really even trying.

I know that I have a choice here - I'm free to refuse Jacob's offer for a ride, and a part of me sort of hopes that I can do that.

_It's a vain hope. _

"Uh, it's no problem," I say, trying to keep my voice calm. As I step into the warm car, I notice a black jacket is slung over the headrest of the seat. The door closes behind me, and, sooner than I expect, he is sitting next to me, putting the idling car in reverse.

Something about today feels different, and I realize this as I try and attempt at settling myself in. There's something electric in the air, and it's almost _tangible._

I bring my legs up and secure my arms around them, hugging them tightly to my chest. I rest my chin on my kneecaps as I gaze out the window, watching the trees and houses blur past as we continue on in silence during the ride to school. I can feel Jacob's eyes on me, practically burning a whole in my head, and wonder what he's going to say. He never fails to surprise me, so I'm sort of anxious for this.

"Are you cold?" he wonders aloud. "'Cause if you are, I brought my jacket for you. We don't want you to get sick, right?"

"I'm not _that _delicate," I counter, rolling my eyes at his insinuation, but I pull the article of clothing onto my lap and study the material.

Jacob releases a bark of laughter. "You're so..._small_."

"I am?" I question, quirking a brow and casting him a sidelong glance.

"Compared to me? Yes."

I frown at that, and begin to mentally take note of our differences. Sure, he _is _bigger than me when it comes to height and body weight, but I've always considered myself of average size. But when I'm next to Jacob, I resemble an ant. I'm not sure how I feel about that just yet.

"So, do you have any questions for me today?" he inquires, coming to a stop sign at an intersection.

I'm caught off guard by his unwarranted question, but I manage to recover quickly and respond. "Ah, no," I answer honestly. "I guess I haven't really thought of any." _Mainly because I've been trying to ignore the way you manage to dazzle me._

He smirks. "Well, lucky for you, I have."

I try to suppress a groan; I do _not _want a repeat of yesterday evening. "Great," I grumble.

My reaction seems to bemuse him. "You really don't like talking about yourself, huh?"

His question is rhetorical, I know that, but I answer anyway, "It's not something I'm used to, is all."

"Well, maybe we can change that..."

_He's persistent, I'll give him that._

So, Jacob begins his little interrogation, and he ends up learning some basic things about me. How I've lived in Forks my whole life, I'm seventeen and a senior at Forks High. And while I think that all of this _has _to be boring, he seems genuinely interested in learning about me. He listens with rapt attention and keeps the questions coming, even when he's pulling his car onto campus and parking into a slot.

"So, you've _never _been cliff diving?" He seems so shocked at this tidbit of information.

"Ah, no. I can't say that I have," I admitted, shrugging. Though, I have witnessed my brother and his friends perform the treacherous act hundreds of times over, and it doesn't seem that tempting. Besides, I'm not fond of life-threatening past times.

He casts me a sly smile, and I can't help but shiver in anxiousness since I can practically _see _the gears in his brain grinding as he thinks of an idea with this newfound information he's been given. _Good going, Haley. _Sometimes, I just need to know when I _shouldn't _say anything.

After Jacob kills the engine, we both climb out of the vehicle. I want to tell him that it isn't necessary for him to walka me to the entrance, but I bite my tongue because I _like _having him near. And it's time I let myself just accept it.

Our footfalls soon become in sync and I can't help but smile wryly at that. It doesn't last long, though, due to the fact that people turn to stare curiously at the pair of us. I begin to shrink back, ducking my head and slumping my shoulders, so as to avoid everyone's gazes - _easier said than done. _

"Jacob?"

Both of us look up at the mention of his name.

Bella Swan is standing underneath the awning, alongside Edward Cullen. The latter's body is angled towards the pale girl, and his handsome features are set in a scow; his dark brows furrowed deeply, forming a 'v,' and his heart-shaped mouth curled downward. There's obviously _something _about Jacob that he doesn't like. Bella, on the other hand, seems ecstatic - if not _relieved _\- to see Jacob.

Sooner than I can even anticipate, Jacob is draping his heavy arm across my shoulders and pulling me into his side. I glance up at him through my lashes, and I almost gasp at the furious expression on his face. His jaw is clenched, his nostrils are flared, and his dark eyes are narrowed into angry slits.

"What's going on?" I ask lowly, trying to squirm out of Jacob's hold. But his grip on me tightens, and I bite my tongue as I elbow him in his side. "Jake?"

At the sound of my voice, his eyes immediately shift down to meet mine. I notice how the muscles in his shoulders become relaxed and his expression isn't as fierce. He blinks once, twice, and then he's casting me a lopsided smile. "Sorry," he responds, sighing. "I just... It's, uh-"

"Complicated?" I offer, shrugging.

He laughs dryly, scratching the shell of his ear with his index finger. "Yeah, actually," he admits.

I nod, and glance back over to Bella and Edward. Just as she steps forward, as if to make her way over towards us, Edward's pale hand shoots out and takes a hold of her dainty shoulder. His mouth moves as he utters something to her, but she merely shakes her head, her eyes glistening with determination, as she sidesteps him and continues to walk briskly up to Jacob and myself.

The growing smile on Bella's pretty face quickly falters at the sight of me at Jacob's side. Her chocolate orbs flickers back-and-forth, ponderously, as she takes in the sight of us.

"Hi, Bells," he greets her amicably, as she comes to an abrupt halt just an arm's length away. I notice how Edward takes careful steps forwards, though choosing to linger in the background.

"_Jake_," Bella breathes out, grinning, as she crosses her arms. "Hey. What're you doing here?"

"Just dropping Hayley off," he informs her, his voice now tight, jerking his head in my direction.

Bella, for the second time, looks over at me. It's like she's actually _seeing_ me for the first time, even though we've attended the same high school for a few months. "Oh," she murmurs, nodding, looking back to Jacob. "Well, it's good to see you. I almost didn't recognize you, at first. You've..._changed_."

"That's what happens when you check out of _reality,_ Bella," he snaps, and I can't help but flinch at the tone of his voice. Bella's reaction practically mirrors mine.

Edward reacts almost instantly, and he's by his girlfriend's side in what seems like a millisecond. "Now isn't the time, or place, Jacob," Edward's svelte voice advises, though there's an underlying threat in his words. "Control yourself, would you?"

Chills shimmies up and down my spine; Edward might not _look _physically threatening, like his older brother, Emmett, but there is something feral about his presence.

His ocher eyes flit over to me, and I can't help but to meld myself farther to Jacob's side, suddenly feeling _very _self-conscious. As he stares intently into my eyes, I can't help but to think he knows my every thought. It's like he can _see _me, without really even having to look.

An animalistic growl pierces my ears, and Jacob is soon standing in my line of vision - his back facing me. My face scrunches, and I try to peer over his shoulder to see what's going on, but the boy is far too gargantuan.

His body begins to tremor. "Don't talk to _me _about control, you-"

"Jacob, _please_," Bella interjects, her voice desperate.

Jacob only scoffs, shaking his head; as if he can't believe what he's hearing. "I'm _not _the bad guy, here, Bella," he states matter-of-fact.

But before anyone can speak next, the morning bell can be heard from within the building, however muffled it may be. _Thank God._

"We should be getting inside, Bella," Edward murmurs to her, and her whole body shifts towards him instinctively. I've never noticed it before, but the way they stare at each other - with such intensity - is a little frightening.

"Okay," she agrees without hesitation, and sidles up next to him. She casts an apologetic look at Jacob. "Bye, Jake."

The tall boy simply grunts in acknowledgement, nodding his head curtly, before Bella is whisked away by Edward. I watch the two retreating figures, noticing how the latter is whispering furiously to her. _Someone's not a happy camper._

After the couple disappears through the double doors, Jacob whirls about and pulls me into a tight embrace, so much so that it nearly knocks the wind right out of me. My face is buried in his muscular chest, so my yelp is muted, and his capable arms are practically strangling the life out of me. I can feel his lips move against my hair as he speaks lowly.

"I'm sorry," he whispers pitifully, sighing. "I promised you nothing heavy, and I've gone and done the complete opposite."

"S'okay," I manage to wheeze out - I'm willing to say _anything,_ at this point, that will cause him to loosen his grip and allow oxygen to flow normally throughout my body once more.

Just as my vision stars to blur, Jacob steps back and presses his warm lips to my forehead, taking me by surprise for the umpteenth time. "I have to get back to the rez," he tells me, sounding reluctant to do so. "Turns out I have school, too."

I laugh, and peer up at Jacob through my lashes. He's smiling, and I can't help but feel my insides flutter at the fact that that smile is directed at _me. _"Well, then, I guess should be heading inside," I say, gesturing to the school building. "Thanks, by the way. For the ride, I mean."

"Anytime," Jacob assures me, while slowly backing away with his eyes still trained on me. It almost seems as if he's trying to _memorize_ me, or something. "I'll be seeing you soon, okay?"

I nod and give him a lame finger wave before turning and following my fellow classmates through the double doors, feeling Jacob's eyes trained on me the entire way.

_I already miss him._

* * *

**A/N**: *cough cough* It's been FOREVER since I last updated (approx. a month)!

I am **_so_ **sorry, you all! Life has just been a little hectic, but I promise that I haven't given this story up! However, my updates may be a little slower :/

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Just know that I always appreciate feedback, and I can't wait to hear from you all!

Love,

-Dev.


	9. Chapter 8 - Looking Up

**|Hayley|**

For the better part of two hours, I've laid on my bed, just scrutinizing every detail of the ceiling; the palest shades of dull white, the scabrous patterns, the smudges in the creases where it conjoins my walls.

I eventually sit up, though a little _too _quickly for my body's liking, and feel dizziness creep across my forehead, over my eyes, and even tingling across my cheekbones. I press my index and middle fingers to my temples, and move them in a circular motion to ease the tension. It's only then, when I let my head bow down, to let the room stop spinning, that I notice I'm wearing the same clothes as yesterday. It makes me feel groggy, stupid, and in desperate need of a shower.

"_Ugh," _I groan, swinging my legs over the side of my bed. I run a hand through my hair, tugging on a few knots that are clumped together on the ends. I stop mid-movement, however, when I suddenly remember that I fell asleep while listening to my iPod last night. I wait for the sound for it to clatter on the floor, thinking that I must have kicked it out when getting up.

But no sound comes.

I frown and bend forward to investigate. There is nothing on the floor, nothing beneath my bed (save for my shoes), and nothing down the side of my bedside table that is pushed so close to my bed that I can barely get my hand down there. I sigh and sit back upright with a quizzical expression. _Where can it be?_

I then search under the covers, tossing my pillows aside in the process, only to stop what I'm doing when something hits me like a ton of proverbial bricks. _I ever slept under the covers last night..._

For a brief second, I'm puzzled. I fell sleep _above _the covers, yet I wake up _under _them?

As I think about this, my eyes flit about the room, only to freeze on a shiny, black object on the windowsill. _My iPod. _I sigh in relief at seeing the piece of technology.

It isn't something that I usually put out on display, so I can't come to a conclusion as to _why _it's there in the first place. I don't think I could have done it in my sleep; I can't ever recall being told that I'm a sleepwalker.

I sigh again; I'm just being ridiculous. No doubt it was Kate who tucked me in last night, and moved my iPod for safe keeping.

After I'm finished arguing with my self about this silly, little misunderstanding, I go to take a shower.

I peel my clothes from my body, set the shower-head to a scalding temperature, and step onto the slippery tile. I languidly exhale as the scalding water droplets begin to pellet my bare skin. _Ah._

A significant amount of time later, after the water begins to run cold, I reluctantly get out and set about my usual morning routine. I throw on a cable knit sweater and some dark-washed jeans, run my fingers through my damp curls, and apply a coating of mascara and lip-gloss to my face.

When I finally come galloping down the stairs, it's just enough time to see Kate shuffling by in her robe and slippers, mug in hand and a newspaper folded under her arm, heading for the living room.

"'Morning," she mutters, not even bothering to look my way. Her greeting is less intentional this morning - maybe she's finally realized that I'm not up for conversation.

"G'Morning," I respond, before veering left and making my way towards the kitchen.

"What time is Jacob picking you up _this_ morning?" she calls from the other room. It's become her routine question, as of late.

I smile stupidly to myself at the thought of Jacob Black. The kid has become a constant in my life during the past week-and-a-half. Not that I mind, of course; for the first time in _months_, I now have something to look forward to. It amazes me how this boy has somehow weaseled his way into my life these past few days without so much as my consent. He's sort of just planted himself at my side and has become a self-proclaimed friend to me. And yet, I reiterate: I don't mind at all.

I pour myself a glass of orange juice and join Kate in the living room, plopping myself next to her on the couch in front of the TV, even though I'm not really interested in the latest news.

"Jake will be here in fifteen minutes," I answer her earlier question, shrugging, while glancing at the clock on the mantlepiece. "And what makes you assume _he's_ picking _me_ up?" My driving privileges have long since been reinstated, so I could just as easily drive myself to school. And yet, it's been somewhat _expectant _for Jacob to take me to school.

"Isn't that what boys usually do for their girlfriends?" Kate wonders aloud, sounding innocent enough.

I nearly choke on my own saliva. _Girlfriend? _"J-Jacob and I are _not-_"

"Try telling _him _that, Hayley," Kate buts in, smirking knowingly. "You have that boy wrapped around your finger. And the way he _looks_ at you - don't even get me started!"

_She can't be serious._

"Aunt Kate, I promise that Jacob and I are _just _friends," I tell her matter-of-factly, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"But does _he _know that?" she questions challengingly, arching a brow at me.

I nibble on the inside of my lower lip as I give her question some considerable thought. I haven't done anything - to my knowledge - that would give Jacob the wrong idea about were we stand with each other. Over the past few days, Jacob and I have gotten to know more about each other. Though I've never entertained him with questions about himself, or his life, he has freely discussed his father, Billy, and his friends (I can't seem to remember all of their names) without any qualms.

I also think about all of the times when Jacob has touched me within the last few days. Though most of them have been unwarranted, they haven't been unwanted. Just when the kid's fingertips _graze_ my skin, a sensation I can't put a name to coils in the pit of my stomach and moves in calculated doses to the tips of my fingers and toes.

"Yes," I finally respond, though my voice lacks the confidence I want to exude. "He knows."

_"Mmhmm,"_ she murmurs, not sounding convinced at all.

_Great. _No doubt now I'll be over analyzing every single thing that Jacob says, or does, around me.

There is a sudden knock at the door, and it has me all wired up because I know _who _is on the other side of it. I can't seem to get my legs and arms moving, which may be somewhat of a problem.

"I believe that's your _friend_," Kate tells me, sniggering.

I give her a pointed glare before scrambling off of the couch, forcing my legs to move, as I go to answer the door. With bated breath, I place my hand on the knob and slowly twist it, opening the door.

As always, Jacob Black takes my breath away. _Literally. _His short, ebony hair is as shiny-looking as ever, his almond-shaped eyes are crinkled at the corners, due to the panty-dropping smile he's casting my way, and his muscular arms are on clear display for me to ogle today because of the gray cut-off shirt he's wearing.

"Hey, Hales," Jacob purrs in greeting, and I swear I can _almost _feel my bones liquify at the way this boy says my nickname.

"H-Hi, Jake," I squeak, causing him to chortle.

"C'mere," Jacob beckons, and I watch in apprehension as he steps forward, his broad shoulders almost the width of the doorway, and envelopes me in his big arms.

I sigh. _This is nice._

I bury my face in his chest and bask the heat emanating from this boy - _it's like he's my own personal sun._ But, all too soon, the warmth is gone and I'm left feeling chilled. "_Get back over here," _I want to say, and jerk him back to me. Of course, I do neither.

"Are you ready?" Jacob inquires, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to his Rabbit that is parked idly in my driveway.

"Yeah," I say, while reaching for my backpack. It's hanging on one of the hooks that are lined along the wall that is adjacent to the front door. "Bye, Aunt Kate!"

"Bye kids," Kate calls back just as Jacob steps aside, allowing me to step over the threshold. "Drive safe, Jacob!"

"Always do, Miss G.," Jacob replies before I shut the door behind me.

Automatically, Jacob reaches for my hand and clasps his larger one around it. I gaze down, entranced, at our joined hands, and I can't help but grin at the feeling of his warm, dry palm pressed up against mine.

"Is this okay?" Jacob whispers, sounding careful. He's acting as if I'm some skittish puppy that will run away with its tail between its legs.

_I'm not going anywhere._

"It's more than okay, Jake."

* * *

The first half of my school day passes by in a blurry haze. I go to my classes - as is required - partake in the grueling task of note taking, and somehow manage to keep my wits about me when I'm caught staring off into space by one of my teachers. All in all, just another standard day at Forks High.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of fourth period, I'm not surprised at how fast everyone else jumps up; mouths hastily wiped of nap drool, notebooks slam closed, sneakers pounding toward the classroom door. What _does _surprise me is how reluctantly I get up to leave. After a full hour of hearing Mr. Marino drone on-and-on, one would think that I couldn't _wait _to elbow it out of here.

Once the doorway is clear, I shoulder my backpack and exit the room. I get caught up in the flow of foot traffic; luckily for me that it's in the direction that my locker is in.

"Hayley!"

My ears perk up a little at hearing my name, but I don't bother turning around to see who it is. Hayley is a fairly common name, and I know several here at Forks High with it - the only difference being the spelling.

"Hayley!"

Once again, I decide not to respond. The chances of the person calling out _my_ name with the intention of talking to me are next to nil.

"Hayley Graham!"

_Or not._

I halt, and slowly turn to look over my shoulder. My eyebrows become acquainted with my hairline; I'm pleasantly surprised to see Ethan Beal dodging in-and-out of people to make his way towards me. I'm somewhat amused at the way his lithe body bobs and weaves, so that he's not colliding into people on his way up to me.

"Um... Hey, Ethan," I say, once he's standing by my side. I'm perplexed, to say the least.

Ethan casts me a lopsided grin, running his fingers through his shaggy, dirty-blonde hair. "Mind if I walk with you?" he inquires, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket.

"S-Sure," I stammer, taken aback by his question. His grey eyes glimmer under the fluorescents as he falls into step alongside me; easily keeping up with my brisk pace. _What's this kid's angle?_

"So, how've you been?" he wonders aloud, clearing his throat afterwards. "It's been a long time since we've talked..."

"Try _nine months_," I grit out, and then regret it afterwards when I catch his pinched expression from my peripheral vision.

"I guess I deserve that," he admits dejectedly, his shoulders slumping while shifting his eyes down to his ultra white sneakers. "But, I just couldn't figure out what to say after..."

Every muscle in my body tenses up, and I hold my breath as I wait for the pain to hit me and the horrific memories to flood back. But, thankfully, they don't. I don't hear the crunch of metal, or the sickening sound of bones breaking - no flashbacks to that murderous night. Instead, I can only remember Jacob's face, and the comfort and security his presence always brings me.

_How can someone I barely know bring me such peace when he isn't even here?_

"Losing Will has been hard on all of us, Hayley," Ethan continues, causing me to refocus back on him, his tone somber. "But I know that doesn't excuse me, and the rest of the guys, for ignoring you. So, I'm sorry."

Ethan's apology does nothing to alleviate the anger and betrayal I feel towards him, and the others, but it _is _a nice gesture and a step in the right direction. "I know you are," I settle on saying, casting him a genuine smile.

He returns it, and then asks, "Would you like to eat lunch with me and the guys?"

_Maybe things are starting to look up for me._

* * *

**A/N**: This hasn't been thoroughly proofread, but I wanted to post it ASAP. :)

Hi, guys. I know it's been awhile (another month as gone by) since I've posted a chapter, yet again. I know, I'm rather pathetic. Please, don't hate me? :) lol.

I am going to _try _my very best to get back into the swing of things and write/post more for this story! Hayley and Jacob hold a very special place in my heart, and I just don't want to part from them yet, y'know?

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know not a lot takes place, but it helps to move the plot along, I promise!

Please review! :) Feedback is always appreciated, and so is constructive criticism! I'm always looking for new ways to improve my writing.

Until the next chapter!

-Dev.


	10. Chapter 9 - All Fun and Games

**|Hayley|**

At the start of October, aside from the gorgeous sight of the changing leaves and wonderful scents of autumn filling the air, the Homecoming signs started popping up all over the school building. They were plastered to the walls, strung along lockers, some even in the bathrooms; it was a bit ridiculous what they were doing for advertising, although the professionals should _really_ take notes from high school students. If I saw this amount of advertising for movies, maybe I'd see a few out of annoyance.

Most of the Homecoming posters were hand painted by the girls of the cheerleading squad and student council - no boys were trusted simply for the reason of their stereotypically awful handwriting. Some of the posters were done professionally to promote and better incorporate this year's theme: _A Night Beneath the Stars. _Oddly, and pathetically enough, that was the theme last year, if I remember correctly.

I didn't go to the dance last year. I don't do dances to begin with. Something about them just seems pretentious and overdone. If I want to, say, _'bust a move,' _I'll happily do it in the safety of my bedroom with the blinds drawn and the perfect music playing in the background.

Most of the girls at Forks High have been on a cloud since the temperature started to drop. Jessica Stanley, it seems, also can't wait to go dress shopping. And, by that, she probably means that she's going to try on every single piece of fabric that the store has to offer.

_I pity the person who goes shopping with her._

"I just can't wait!" Jessica announces for the umpteenth time, in her high-pitch squeal. She slides into the seat across from me at the lunch table, a large smile on her face, as Angela Webber and Lauren Mallory sit opposite her.

It's now common knowledge that the seat next to me is reserved for Ethan_ \- _how that became so, I'll never understand. After inviting me to sit at lunch with him a few days ago, he started spending lunch with _me. _And, once he realized that I liked apples, he started bringing me one daily.

Soon, much to my dismay, several people from his circle of friends began to flock to his side and joined us every day for the lunch period. So, my usually vacant table is now fully occupied. _I'm not quite sure how to feel about that. _

I notice Jessica looking expectantly from Lauren to Angela, waiting for one of them to do something - _say_ something. _She wants them to ask. _

"For what?" Angela finally asks, no doubt from the kindness of her heart.

"Homecoming, _duh_," Jessica responds, veering her hazel eyes into a roll.

"Why?" Lauren snorts sardonically, rolling her green, fishy eyes. "So Lorraine Cavanaugh can wear yet _another _plastic crown while she says something pathetic, like Lindsay Lohan's speech from the end of _Mean Girls_?"

_Ouch. _I try not to react physically to the blonde girl's verbal barb.

"Lauren, that isn't very nice to say," Angela speaks up timidly, her voice lacking the confidence needed in a situation such as this.

Rather than lash out at the shy, yet brave girl, Lauren merely shrugs off the remark directed at her and begins chomping unceremoniously away on her salad. _Talk about letting it roll off your back. _

"Homecoming is going to be _awesome_," Jessica voices defensively, as expected, with a faraway look on her face as she gazes dreamily out of the nearby windows. "Just because _you're _too bitter to appreciate it-"

"What _is _there to appreciate?" Lauren snaps angrily, her hand running through her flaxen tresses irately.

_She has a point, _I realize. The paper streamers, the half-assed decorations, and the way everyone seems to be nice to the ones they've hated before this one little moment...

"Says the peppy, perky cheerleader," I mutter, watching their heads simultaneously snap in my direction, as if they've forgotten that I'm here - sitting across from them as they have their little debate. _Oops. _

"And the rugged, manly football player," I hear someone add from behind me.

Jessica and Lauren snicker like schoolgirls while Ethan sits himself down into the chair adjacent to mine, his jean-clad thigh rubbing up against me. _Again. _I can't help but wonder if he does this on purpose. "Did I forget to mention how _handsome _this football player is?" He angles his face to accentuate his features. I can't help but laugh at his idiocy.

"If you keep talking about me like that, Beal, people are gonna get the wrong idea," Mike Newton announces, humorously, as he joins our table alongside of Tyler Crowley. The two boys complete our circle of seven.

Ethan rolls his eyes as he turns and gives me his undivided attention, while the other five begin to talk about the game aspect of Homecoming. "So, the scent of Homecoming is in the air," he states, handing me an apple from his lunch.

As our fingertips brush, I can't help but take the moment to examine him in his dark jeans, black t-shirt, and decorated letterman jacket. His blonde hair falls into his eyes as he looks to me, smiling lopsidedly.

As handsome as Ethan may be, however, I can't help but conclude that he is no Jacob Black.

I've found myself doing that quite frequently - comparing the two boys.

"Do you smell alcohol, shame, and bad decisions, too?" I snort, rolling my eyes, as I take a bite from the apple.

Ethan frowns at this, unwrapping a sub sandwich and taking a bite. "That's not what I meant, Hayley," he informs me matter-of-factly.

I tend to forget that Ethan still hasn't grown accustomed to _this _Hayley - the one that repels people with her dry sense of humor. "Right, sorry," I murmur, slumping back into my chair.

He sighs, then says, "Hayley?" Ethan sounds serious, and wants to talk to me. I see, from the corner of my eye, his body shift and turn to face me.

"What?" I ask, reluctantly, looking to him as he smiles shyly.

"In my own pathetic way, I'm trying to ask you to the dance." I look into his blue eyes, seeing my reflection; he's _that _close to me.

_Oh._

I feel my heat cheeks up in mortification when I realize that we now have an audience. I can feel five pairs of eyes practically burning holes right through me.

"I don't dance," I tell him honestly, after clearing my throat and gathering my bearings.

"Does that mean you don't want to go with me?" he questions, sadness crossing his face, trying to make me feel guilty. I can't tell if it's forced, or if he's actually sad. _Probably both._

'It's my turn to sigh. "It's not you, Ethan," I assure him, because it really isn't. "I've just never wanted to go to a dance, period."

He briefly looks to his friends, gauging their reactions; their eyes are wide as they watch the train wreck before them. Guilt churns my stomach when I realize that I'm embarrassing him in front of them. But I can't say yes to him for several reasons; the main one being Jacob Black.

"Don't take it personally, Ethan," Jessica says with mock sympathy, her eyes flashing menacingly while shifting her gaze over to me. "Hayley avoids anything school spirit related, right?"

I don't flinch, or shrink back, at her remark because it's simply the truth.

"Jess, I don't think-"

"She's right, Ethan," I interject, not wanting him to defend me. In my opinion, I don't really deserve it. "That was more of Will's area of expertise, than mine."

Everyone freezes at the mention of my brother. After all, these people were _his _friends. They were only ever mine by default.

And so, without another word being said, I look for the nearest garbage can and throw the now-browning apple core into it. It soars right in. _Three points. _"I'll see you later, Ethan," I tell him, sliding away and leaving him behind with a bewildered expression.

"What did I say wrong?" I can hear Ethan ask.

"Don't worry," Jessica assures him, speaking loud enough for me to hear as I walk away. "What makes you think that _she _would even attend one of the biggest dances of the year?"

* * *

I go through the rest of my day pretending that there isn't a person out there - a popular senior that can have his pick of _any _girl in this school - that wants to go to Homecoming with me. But it is very hard to ignore, especially since it's the main thing on my brain, no matter _how _many times I try to push it aside for things more important: like schoolwork.

But it's hard to do when the main focus of most conversations is the dance.

There are girls in my ASL class talking, not signing, about dresses when they _should _be signing about books and reading habits. There are people in my AP English class talking about creative ways to ask their significant other to the dance, a big extravagant gesture that will get their attention, when we _should _be reading, analyzing, or finishing our papers about _Beowulf; _they're due at the end of the week.

There are large posters in the hall covered with white and yellow dots that are meant to represent stars, there are people dressed as fairies, handing out floral scented flyers that sparkle when angled in the light, advertising the dance.

Homecoming, I hate to admit, is everywhere and I can't escape it.

"What kind of dress are you going to wear?" a freshman girl asks, a few lockers down from mine. I try to hurry in my attempt to exchange some of the contents in my backpack for what is in my locker.

"I dunno," her friend responds, shrugging. "Nothing too over-the-top, though."

"I think blue would do your complexion _wonders_," the first girl insists.

I slam the door to my locker closed, causing the two girls to jolt from the harsh sound, thus putting an end to their conversation. The short act of causing the clacking of metal on metal makes me feel slightly better. It's a smaller ecstasy of doing something like standing on top of a three-story building and throwing stuff over the edge. Seeing it fall and break into pieces can give anyone a rush.

I rake my fingers through my hair as I breeze pass the freshman girls, not bothering to see whether, or not, they're glowering at me, and exit the set of double-doors nearest to me.

The dull gray light of an overcast day welcomes me as I step outside, shouldering my backpack in the process. I veer myself towards the student parking lot, my eyes scanning the cars for one in particular.

_Jake, where are you? _

Due to Jacob's abnormal size, as well as unique features, he sticks out in a crowd. And yet, ten minutes have passed, and I've canvassed the entire lot without any luck of spotting him.

I frown as I dig through my backpack and pull out my cell. The screen on my phone is black and refuses to turn on. I must have forgotten to turn it on last night.

"Need a ride?"

I whip my head up at the sound of the all-_too_-familiar voice, and I feel my lips curl upward when I see Jacob Black standing just a few feet in front of me. Despite that half of his face is shadowed by the bill of his faded blue baseball cap, I know that his eyes are shimmering humorously.

"Maybe," I answer back jokingly, rolling my shoulders in mock gesture. "Know anybody who's offering?"

"_Hmm_," he murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Though it's a vain attempt, I try to ignore the way the muscles in his arms seem to ripple with every single movement. The boy is wearing _no_ outer layers, despite the chilly weather. Just head-to-toe-black. "I might know someone."

I roll my eyes, snorting, as I close the distance between us and give him a playful punch on the shoulder. "You're_ late,_ you know," I tell him pointedly as he drapes an arm over my shoulders and pulls me close to his side, as we fall into step with each other. _Try not to hyperventilate, Hayley. _As of late, Jacob seems to be testing the boundaries of what is known as 'personal space.' And, though I know that most _friends_ aren't this touchy, I can't find it in myself to care.

"Sorry about that," Jacob tells me apologetically, sounding sincere. "I had to run a few errands before I could leave the rez."

No doubt it was for the infamous Sam Uley. Though Jacob hasn't bothered to go into _too _much detail about him with me, I know that Jacob does odd jobs for him now and again. And so does Jacob's friends.

We end up walking a few more parking spaces over, and it isn't Jacob's Rabbit I see that's in the slot we stop at. Rather, it's a shiny black motorcycle resting on its kickstand. I watch wearily as Jacob goes over, swings on and tips his head at the vacant space behind him. "Hop on."

"Wow, Jake. Nice bike," I say. Which is a boldface lie. It looks like a glossy black death trap. I've never been on a motorcycle in my life, and I'm not sure I want to change that today.

"Scared?" Jacob teases, to which I glower at him for.

"A little," I admit, shifting my weight from foot-to-foot.

"Oh, c'mon, Hales," he coaxes, reaching behind him for something. It turns out to be a helmet - also black, with a tinted visor - and he's holding it out for me. "I promise not to let anything happen to you."

_I hope I don't regret this. _

Taking the helmet, I swing my leg over the bike and realize how insecure I feel with nothing bit a narrow strip of seat beneath me. I slide the helmet over my curls and strap it under my chin.

"Is it hard to drive?" I ask. What I really mean i_s, __"Is it safe?"_

"No," Jacob responds, answering both of my spoken and unspoken questions. He chuckles softly. "You're tense, Hales. _Relax._"

"Easy for _you_ to say," I grumble under my breath.

When Jacob pulls out of the parking space, the explosion of movement startles me; I've been holding on to his shirt with just enough fabric between my fingers to keep my balance. Now I wrap my arms around him in a backward bear hug.

Jacob accelerates onto the highway, and my thighs squeeze around him. I hope that I'm the only one who notices.

When we reach my house, Jacob eases the bike up the fog-drenched driveway, kills the engine, and swings off. I remove my helmet, balancing it carefully on the seat in front of me, and open my mouth to reluctantly say something along the lines of, _"Thanks for the ride. I guess I'll see you later."_

The words dissolve as Jacob crosses the front lawn and heads up the front porch steps. I can't help but smile giddily as I follow after him; this means that he plans on staying for a while.

After letting myself in, and tossing my keys in the tray by the door, Jacob enters behind me and closes the door with his foot.

"I'm hungry," Jacob announces, stepping around me and brushing my shoulder as he breezes past. "Mind if I raid your fridge?" He doesn't even bother to wait for me to murmur a, 'sure' as he walks down the hall, and through the swinging door, into the kitchen.

I smirk to myself. _This boy. _

"Make sure you at least leave some food for me and Kate, would ya?" I call after him, earning me a hearty laugh in return, as I toe off my shoes and drop my backpack on the floor of the entryway.

After entering the living room, I plop myself down onto the couch, scooping the remote up from the coffee table and clicking on the flat-screen.

I'm still channel surfing when Jacob eventually rejoins me, his mouth full of some unknown substance and can of _Coke _in hand. He seats himself next to me and snatches the remote away from me.

_"Hey,"_ I scoff indignantly, making a grab for the piece of technology.

"I believe it's _my _turn to pick something for a change," he tells me pointblank, holding the remote just out of my reach_._

I cross my arms haughtily. "Oh, yeah? Says who?"

He merely shrugs. "House guest rules."

_We'll see about that._

I'm reminded of the way Will always tortured me when we were little, and the familiarity of the situation causes me to react accordingly. With an exaggerated battle cry, I pounce on top of Jacob. I straddle his hips and pin his arms down the way I used to do my brother's. Of course, I never actually trapped him because I was younger and smaller, but he always humored me anyway.

I find myself smirking down at Jacob's bewildered expression. "How the mighty have fallen," I tease, snickering.

Then, his features rearrange to show playful annoyance. "This isn't fair," he tells me matter-of-fact. "I wasn't ready."

"Oh, woe is you," I retort, veering my eyes into a roll. "Besides, you had it coming."

Jacob snorted, shaking his head. "Fine. Will you get off of me now?"

I pretend to consider it. "_Hmm... _I don't think I will."

"And why not?"

"Because I'm enjoying the power far too much," I answer in a tone that says it should be obvious. Then, a thought strikes me, "Are you ticklish?"

"...No."

"That means you are!" I goad, releasing my hold on his wrists and attack his sides instead, which are equally disarmed.

Jacob's laughter spills past his lips as he grabs my hands. "S-Stop!"

"Cry mercy, and I will!"

"No way!"

"Say it!"

"Not a chance!"

"Then I will continue to torture you in this incredibly demeaning way until - _agh_!" I don't get to finish my empty threat, however, because Jacob grabs my shoulders while I'm distracted with my rant and pushes me back into the couch cushions with expected ease.

The tables have suddenly turned, and I find myself pinned between him and the couch. He doesn't put his full weight on me, though; he's actually leaning more over me, with most of his weight shifted to his knees, and he has my wrists pinned on either side of my head.

I can do nothing but stare up at him, feeling dazed and confused at the turn of events. He's breathing heavily from laughing, and the warmth of it curls across my lips and jaw. As I inhale through my nose, I get a whiff of his scent - a distinct medley of fire, sweat, and earth that has my senses spiraling out of controls.

For a moment, Jacob looks as disconcerted as I feel, but he regains his composure than I can. "Cry mercy," he demands huskily.

I blink slowly, staring into his swirly brown orbs, entranced. "And if I say it, will you get off of me?"

"Yes."

"Then no," the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I want nothing more than to grab them and stuff them back in.

Jacob's expression goes through three different emotions in quick succession: the first is surprise, the second is one that I don't recognize, and the third is resolve. He releases my wrists and pushes himself into a sitting position, inching away from my on the furniture. I slowly follow his actions and heave myself upright, frowning at the way Jacob is staring perplexedly down at the floor.

"Jake?" I ask softly, my voice almost a whisper.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," I mutter, staring at my linked hands. The atmosphere has gone from relaxed and playful to tense and awkward in under a minute.

"Don't be. I'm the one that got carried away," he assures me.

"If anyone got carried away, it was me," I admit, flushing at my own audacity. _What was I thinking?_

He shakes his head, smiling ruefully. "You have no idea, Hales," he tells me, casting me a sidelong glance. His voice is cryptic, and another uncomfortable silence follows as we exchange furtive glances.

Just then, the front door is thrown open and Kate walks in, all decked out in her mint green scrubs. "Hey, kids. What's going on?"

Jacob and I share nervous looks before responding, in unison, "Nothing."

_Absolutely nothing..._

_...I think._

* * *

**|Jacob|**

After making sure that my bike is safely concealed by the shrubbery, just off the winding two-lane road, I dive head-first into the line of trees. I force myself to ignore the sound of my pants and shoes ripping apart. Some small voice, in the back of my mind, mutters, _There goes another set. _But all I can afford to concentrate on is phasing.

My paws on the forest floor beat out a chorus of her name. _Hay-ley. Hay-ley. Hay-ley. _There is no denying my attachment to her - not that I've really bothered to do that. I've spent these past few weeks getting to know as much about her as possible, and I've come to find that I like her more and more with each little thing I learn.

I don't love her, though.

_Yet._

My heart is still heavy with the weight of Bella's betrayal.

But with Hayley, there _is _something there. Some strong kind of parallel to love that I don't quite understand. It pulses in my chest like a second heartbeat, harmonizing her name with my paws pounding on the ground.

* * *

**A/N**: Another chapter for you guys! And it's longer this time around. :)

I just want to tell you guys that I've decided to change some things around. Instead of this story taking place in "New Moon," it takes place in "Eclipse." But the time frame will be off. For the sake of my story, I'm having all of the events that take place in "Twilight" happen in Bella and Edward's Sophomore year, instead of their Junior year. I hope that makes sense, and doesn't confuse any of you.

So, just to be clear: everything that happens in the book still happens/will happen in my story, just at different times.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Some very important things are about to take place within the next few chapters, so be on the lookout for 'em!

Thanks so much for the reviews/favorites/follows! Please keep them coming! I always enjoy hearing from you guys. :)

Hope you all have an awesome New Years!

Until the next chapter!

-Dev.


	11. Chapter 10 - Unusual Sighting

**|Hayley|**

"I hate you."

"So you keep telling me."

"How many times have I said it now?"

"Nine, I think."

"Let's make it even, then. I hate you."

"That hurts, Hales," Jacob chuckles, while placing his palm over his heart. "And to think, I was _just _about to say how I was having a good time already."

I roll my eyes; he is such a _child_ sometimes. "Want a tissue for those tears? I said it because I _really _shouldn't have even come with you. I have so much homework, and…"

"So, you'd rather be doing homework – on a _Saturday _– as opposed to hanging out with me?" he inquires quickly, one eyebrow quirked as a smirk slowly spreads across his lips.

"Well, no," I answer honestly. _Who_ likes_ to do homework? _"I just know I need to get it done." It's partially true; I've allowed myself to get behind a little on my schoolwork this past week. But I'd rather be spending some quality time with a friend than frying my brain cells by attempting to figure out how to do Limits.

"You will, you will," Jacob assures me, reaching over and turning up the volume knob of the stereo. It comes as a relief to me that he isn't a fan of any of that cookie-cutter stuff. "Until then, why not just _relax_."

I purse my lips and sigh, nodding my head in agreement, before shifting my eyes so that I can gaze out of the passenger side window. Just on the other side of the glass, rain is peppering down. I watch as the droplets trickle down the glass, blurring the outside scenery.

"So, how does ice-cream sound?" Jacob wonders aloud as he makes a left turn at an intersection.

I peer over at him while resting my feet on the dashboard. I can't help but wonder if he'll bust a vein like Will usually did when I would do the same thing in his truck when I rode with him. "Depends," I remark indifferently, shrugging. "Where're we going?"

"_Inside Scoop_," he answers with a bright smile. "They have the _best _soft-serve in your neck of the woods."

Of course I've seen the little ice-cream parlor in town before, but I've never been a frequent customer. Will and I always opted for _Cold Stone _in Port Angeles, instead_. _We'd always get their famous birthday mix, in a waffle bowl that was dipped in chocolate, with two spoons so that we could share. Of course, I'd always end up tricking him so that I could always eat the rest of it.

It isn't too long before Jacob is pulling his Rabbit into a parking slot. I grasp the door handle, and am just about to make a beeline for safety that the multi-colored awning provides, when he calls out, "Last one on the sidewalk pays for the ice-cream!"

"What the–?" But I'm promptly cut off by the slam of his door in my face.

_Damn it. _

I quickly scramble out of the vehicle and make a mad dash through the rain, squinting slightly as the droplets begin pelting my eyes. I can just make out Jacob's low chortling under the thrumming of the rain, as he says, "I guess I'm just too fast for ya, huh?"

Suffice it to say, I'll be paying for two this evening. _Drat._

A clash of thunder overhead sends us flying through the doors of the establishment. Much to my horror, however, a bunch of my classmates are scattered around the place. I instinctively shrink back, but I feel a leanly toned arm being draped across my shoulders and I'm suddenly pulled flush up against Jacob's side.

"What're you doing?" I hiss, my eyes widening from mortification, as my gaze shifts up to stare him in the eyes. "Jake, people will talk–"

"Then let's give them something to talk about," he muses, leading the two of us to the counter so we can order. I hear a few snickers from some tables nearby as we amble past, and my body tenses up reflexively. My reaction doesn't go unnoticed by Jacob, either. "You can't let this get to you, Hales. Don't buckle under the pressure."

I heave a sigh while casting my eyes down to the terracotta flooring. My heart feels heavy inside of my chest and I want nothing more than to be back home, under my blankets for safekeeping.

"I shouldn't have come," I mutter more so to myself, than to Jacob.

"Ow. You shot me in the heart with that one," he kids, bumping his hip with mine. "Surely I'm not _that _terrible to be around."

I give him an exasperated look, to which he snickers at as we step up to the cash register. We place our order and wait just off to the side so the people behind us can have their turn. I end up choosing the chocolate and vanilla swirl on a cone, while Jacob goes with just plain vanilla. I comment on how 'boring' that is, so he tells the server to add sprinkles afterwards.

"How's _that _for boring?" Jacob retorts, causing me to roll my eyes.

We get our order just a few moments later and, just as I'm about to pay, Jacob beats me to it and hands the woman behind the counter a ten and tells her to keep the change.

"You didn't have to do that," I admonish as we choose a booth near the display window that looks out onto the street just beyond. The rain is continuing to batter down onto the colored awnings of the shops along either side of the two-lane road, spilling onto the pavement below. The gas lamps that are staggered down both sides of the street are now glowing to life.

"What kind of guy would I be if I let a girl pay?" Jacob questions, though I can tell it's rhetorical. "Now, try your ice-cream, and I _dare _you to tell me that it isn't the best you've ever tasted."

Giving him a peculiar look, I do as he instructs and try to stifle a moan. The ice-cream _is_good. As I let it melt over my taste buds and then swallow, I can't help but fall in love with the cold, creamy goodness.

"You're right," I admit, grinning.

"Just a little piece of ice-cream heaven for your enjoyment," Jacob remarks with a smile.

Before I know it, I've _almost_ forgotten that there are people still trying to sneak glances in our general direction, no doubt gossiping about seeing the two of us together. But there is absolutely _nothing _I can do about it. Jacob and I both know where we stood with each other - _sort of -_ and that is all that matters.

"So, what made you ask me to hang out today?" I wonder aloud, lowering my cone to the table. "You're usually busy running around for Sam-"

I realize my mistake when I see Jacob's eyes flash humorously - I sound, dare I say, _envious._

"Never mind," I mutter, feeling my cheeks grow warm. "Forget I mentioned anything."

Jacob chortles while nudging my foot with his underneath the table. "No need to be jealous, Hales. I'm all yours today."

_If only..._

* * *

Jacob pulls the car up outside of my house and cuts the engine. I eye the darkened house for a moment through the windshield, and suddenly, I'm not too keen on the idea of being in there all by myself. The wind outside starts to pick up, and whistles around the vehicle in the silence that has settled between us.

"So, I guess I should thank you for taking me out tonight," I say, feeling miffed about having to separate so soon. I've just been starting to enjoy myself, and now we have to say our goodbyes.

"S'no big deal. We should do it again, sometime. And I promise to let _you _pick what we get to do."

"Yeah, you should," I agree, flicking him on the shoulder. Jacob laughs and starts to say something back to me, but his words seem to fade out when my eyes venture behind him and land on_...something_ standing a few feet away, lingering in the shadows of a cedar tree. I blink twice, certain that I'm imagining what I'm seeing.

My eyes narrow ever-so-slightly as I realize I'm staring at a creature of some sort - a huge outline of an animal. _Is that a dog? _

"Hayley?"

Jacob's voice causes me to check back into reality, and I realize that I'm currently leaning over the armrest that divides the passenger seat from the driver's, completely invading his personal space, to get a closer look at _whatever _that thing is.

"Oh, sorry," I mumble, abashed, as I retreat back to the safety of my side of the car. "I was just... I thought I saw something."

Jacob quirks a brow as he turns his head and looks in the same direction that I was moments earlier, and I do the same, but there isn't anything there this time around. My eyes flicker this way and that as I study the surroundings meticulously, but there's _nothing _present. _Odd._

"Are you sure you saw something?" Jacob inquires, genuinely curious. At least he isn't doubting me, or questioning my sanity. "Because, if you did, it isn't there now."

My eyebrows furrowed as I study the area one final time, feeling the corners of my mouth pull downward. "I was almost sure of...," my voice trails off as I sigh, raking my fingers through my hair irately. "Never mind."

Frazzled, I place my hand on the door handle, and am about to exit the car, when Jacob says the one thing that causes my entire body to become _rigid. _"I can stay until your aunt gets in from work. At least, this way, you won't be alone tonight."

_How can I say no?_

* * *

**A/N**: This chapter is unbearably short. :/ I promise that the next chapter will be longer.

It's been brought to my attention that the build-up in my story is rather..._slow. _I'm sorry for that, but let's be real here - Hayley and Jacob aren't gonna fall in love by the fifth chapter. Look how long it took for Bella and Edward in "Twilight!" Haha. Nevertheless, I promise not to drag out the inevitable longer than necessary. I just feel like they should get to know each other, as _friends, _first.

Anyways, thanks so much for the reviews/follows/favorites! I love hearing from you all, so please keep the feedback coming!

And if you have any questions regarding my story, please don't hesitate to ask! :) I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability.

Happy belated New Years, everyone!

Until the next chapter!

-Dev.


	12. Chapter 11 - Perchance To Dream

**|Hayley|**

Hands grasping either side of the porcelain sink with faltering resolve, I stare straight into my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Hazel irises speckled with flecks of yellow stare back at me, black pupils glittering with anxious indecision. My damp, reddish-brown curls are in their usual disarray around my oval face, loosely waved in the areas that I tend to keep running a nervous hand through. My cheekbones hold an anxious pallor, I also note.

_You wanted this, Hayley. Remember?_

I heave a weary sigh, watching my shoulders rise and fall as I do so, and can't help but think that maybe I've set myself up for disappointment. I know that Jacob has only offered to stay because he assumes that I don't want to be left alone - _and he's not wrong - _but it's for a completely different reason. With Jacob close by, the darkness doesn't crowd in on me. I don't feel like I'm drowning into this deep, bottomless abyss.

Since this boy befriended me, he's given me something that I've given up on ever regaining: _hope. _And, call me selfish, but I don't want to risk losing that. So, I _need _him here tonight.

I can now here faint thuds from just across the hall, and then a creak of the floorboard. The exact one by the bathroom door is unmissable. It makes the lightest of noise no matter _how _light the weight forced upon it may be. I should know, seeing as how I've witnessed it giveaway my brother a time or two during one of his nightly escapes.

I know that Jacob is just hovering on the other side of the door now. "Hayley?" he asks suddenly, rapping his knuckles lightly on the door; worry is the easiest emotion to identify in his voice. It sticks out like a wrong note in a gentle melody. "Everything okay in there?"

"Yeah, of course," I answer softly, taking deep breaths, before slowly opening the door and stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.

"Do you need to talk about this? Tell me what's bothering you?"

"No, no. I'm fine," I quickly reassure him. "I...just needed a moment. Personal reasons, y'know?"

"Oh," he clears his throat, his cheeks turning a dusky color; he's clearly embarrassed for asking. "You sure?" His beautiful, dark-brown eyes stare into mine with uncertainty.

I nod. "Yeah. Positive." I force a quick smile to show him that I'm 'okay,' and take the lead by walking around him and entering my room.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I see Jacob hesitating in the doorway for a prolonged moment, no doubt out of courtesy, before taking a few steps inside. I watch in interest as his eyes flicker about the room, and I can't help but wonder what he thinks of it.

The once Backstreet Boys plastered, pink room is now a powder-blue and white. Thin, gauzy curtains flutter at the partial-open window, and a shell design quilt lies on the bed. The walls are decorated with driftwood frames, which encases local beach shots and shells hanging on string. White wooden furniture accompanies the new design.

This is my cave, my safe haven, the wonderful world that I have created for myself over the years. This is the place that says who I truly am - what I like, what I love.

"So, where should I crash?" Jacob wonders aloud, breaking the silence. It's a reasonable enough question, to be sure_. _It's just too bad that I haven't given it much consideration.

"Erm...," I gnaw on my lower lip as my eyes scan the room, looking for something that he can possibly use for a makeshift pallet. The only thing currently available is the throw blanket on the top shelf of my closet; that _definitely _won't be comfortable enough on my hardwood floor.

So, I respond with the most logical option, "My bed, I guess." Jacob doesn't respond right away, just eyeing my bed, considering, and his silence makes me jittery. "You don't mind, do you?"

For a few brief moments, Jacob looks as though he's at war with himself. No doubt wondering if he should go with the side of him that's telling him yes, and just sleep in the same bed as me. Or the part that's saying no, this is all too risky and he should go home. All through this internal argument, I have my fingers crossed behind my back.

"Jake?" I ask optimistically, cocking my head to the side, as I stare at him precariously.

_"Ah...,"_ he murmurs, swallowing hard. "Sure. That'll be fine."

"Okay, then," I say half-heartedly, not entirely convinced, before I turn and scoop up my brush from my bedside table. I yank it through my hair, trying to untangle the mess before laying down for the night. I hear some shuffling, and then rustling of the sheets from behind me.

Just as I run the brush through my hair one final time, the bristles feeling amazing as they graze my scalp, movement from the corner of my eye causes me to divert my attention to it. Technically, to _him. _I slowly pivot my head around, and I feel my throat become dry as I watch Jacob slip underneath the covers _without _a shirt on.

"Something wrong?" Jacob inquires, quirking a brow; genuinely curious. And what makes matters worse is that the boy is completely oblivious to how he's making my body go haywire at this very moment.

I shake my head in response to his question as I turn off the lamp, causing darkness to shroud the room. I tentatively sidle up to the bed and slide in next to him, hugging the covers to my chest; leaving enough space between us that can be deemed as appropriate.

I pull in a breathe and ease it out. "Thanks for staying with me, Jacob," I whisper, hoping he can hear me. "You don't have to, but you are. So, thanks." As I say the words aloud, they seem inadequate. I sigh and squirm to get into a better sleeping position. No matter what, though, my left arm will end up going numb.

He turns his head towards me, a vague gray shape changing form in the blackness. "You make it sound like I'm going out of my way to be here, or something," he grunts offensively. "I'm here because I _want _to be. Now are you gonna move over here, or am I gonna have to come over there?"

I feel chills shimmying up my spine at his words, and force my body to cooperate as I inch closer to him. Heat encases me when I feel one of his arms secure itself across my ribcage. I quickly reposition myself under his arm, my back facing him, and sigh in contentment. _Bliss._

"Goodnight, Jake," I hum sleepily.

"G'night, Hales."

Minutes pass, and soon I begin to feel weightless.

"Are you asleep yet?"

"No, but I was getting there," I moan grumpily.

A beat, and then, "Sorry. I guess I'm just not tired."

"Too bad, because I am," I retort, burrowing more so under the covers to prove my point.

Jacob chuckles throatily, then begins to draw circles on my exposed arm, which, in turn, causes my skin to prickle. There is _no way_ I'll be able to sleep if he keeps that up. "Jake, w-what're you doing?"

"Trying to occupy myself," he states, as if it should be obvious; his fingertips are featherlight as they graze down my forearm.

"And _this _is how you do it?" I ask incredulously.

"Mm-hmm. Am I bothering you?" I can _hear _the smile in his voice.

"Not at all," I tell him honestly. "Goodnight, Jacob."

"'Night, Hayley."

We say nothing after that.

**. . . . . . . . . .**

_The world is swirling around me in bright hues of pinks and purples, vibrant yellows and oranges, tugging me from place-to-place, through memory-to-memory, and I don't recognize the field of flowers that I land in. It's empty, and the wind slowly blows the tiny flowers back and forth. Like a slow wave, they move and shift together, saying lazily with the breeze._

_I reach down to swipe my hand through the flowers, expecting the silk of the petals to glide against the palm of my hand. Only, my hand glides through them as if they're nothing._

_How odd._

_"Isn't it lovely?" a light, airy female voice asks from behind me, startling me._

_I jump, turning around to face the voice, the skirt of my summer dress swinging and swishing around my bare legs. Behind me stand a girl that is my height, with red-brown hair plaited in a thick braid over her left shoulder, little tendrils of her hair framing her face and blowing in the wind. She's wearing a blue sundress, similar to the white one I'm wearing, covered in a tiny floral design. Her green eyes glisten in the bright sunlight, twinkling like stars when she turns her gaze to me._

_I should answer her, that would be the easy thing to do. But no words form as I realize that I've seen her somewhere - somewhere that doesn't come to mind. But her face is so obvious, so clear in my head._

_"It is," I finally respond, agreeing, letting my arms fall straight down my sides, limp and dangling._

_She briefly looks at me, crossing her arms along her chest. "Don't look so scared, Hayley," she says, chuckling. "It's only me."_

Who is 'me?'

_She swings her thin, porcelain arms around her as she takes a soundless step forward. "I like to come here to think from time-to-time," she whispers with a small smile tugging her lips apart._

Where is 'here?'

_"Think of it as a 'happy place.'"_

_I peer around a second a time, only seeing wide-open space - not a building, or trees in sight; nothing for miles. The air is filled with a light floral scent and the sky is cloudless and bright. We are alone here; just her and me._

_"I've been meaning to talk to you," she tells me abruptly, walking past me. "But you just never come here." __I tilt my head, unable to follow her trail as she moves. "Although, you do have every capability of doing so."_

_I want to tell her,_ "I don't even know where 'here' is," _but the words die on my lips. __I turn around to face her. Instead, I blurt, quite gracefully I might add, "Who are you?" before I can rethink my action. THe outburst doesn't surprise her as it does me._

_She turns to me with a small, knowing smile blooming. __"You mean to tell me that you don't recognize your own mother?"_

_I stumble back a step._

Mom?

_"That's me," she giggles, as if she hears me. "Think of this as little...'family bonding.'"_

_"B-But, you were... And _now, _you're..." I stammer out nervously, not able to form a coherent sentence._

_"It's amazing, huh?" she wonders aloud, twirling, her tone mystified. "I'm seventeen, again. At least, in your mind I am."_

_"But, why?" I demand. She doesn't bother to respond, rather she turns away from me and takes another step further into the flower-filled grass, putting more space between us. Minutes seem to stretch in what feels like hours as I watch her wander about, before I demand, "Are you going to answer me?"_

_I can't understand the hostility I have. THis is only a dream - a dream that will disappear when I wake up. I won't remember any of this in the morning. But anger is all I have._

_"That isn't something I can answer." Mom doesn't face me when she speaks, so I stare at her back, her bare back, which is covered in scars and bruises. They weren't there a moment ago. Even in my mind, a dream, I can't hide that night from my memory._

_"Oh, Mom...," I gasp, stepping closer. My hand is outstretched to touch the flaws of her flesh, but I let it fall between us before it connects with her skin. I don't know what I'll feel if I try to touch her. Maybe she's not real... But, more than that, what if when I try to touch her, my hand goes right through her like with the flowers?_

_I can't have that happen._

_I want to touch my mother. She's standing in front of me, that should mean I _can _touch her._

But this is a dream. Only a dream.

_She turns her head to the side - she can barely look at me, barely see me. "Don't worry about me, Hayley. It doesn't hurt anymore." With that, she disappears, fading right before my eyes; leaving me alone in an empty field surrounded by air and flowers._

_I _should _have touched her, felt her skin, when I had the chance._ Now she's gone.

_Tears trickle down my cheeks, falling to the front of my white dress._ _She was here - Mom was_ here.

She just left me.

_It's breaking my heart, standing in this field - the last few moments replaying in my mind._

_Startled, I feel the sensation of air move over my shoulder, lightly rubbing back and forth along my skin. But it isn't air._

_"Don't be sad, Hales," a deep, very male voice tells me, distracting me from what I saw earlier._

_I turn around._

_Suddenly, I feel safe here - wherever 'here' is. Next to me is Jacob Black._

_"Jake," I breathe, a smile pulling at my frown as I peer into his almond-shaped eyes. "Where are we?"_

_"I was hoping you could answer that," he tells me, dropping his hand. "Because I haven't got a clue." That isn't exactly what I want to hear from him, but I cant complain. Not loudly, anyway. "But I'm here with you." His hand reaches up, cupping my left cheek. I lean into his touch, feeling his unnaturally warm skin, feeling_ him. _It's like he's real - he's real right now._

_Jacob all-too-soon retracts his hand away, and the cool air presses against my cheek, reminding me instantly of the loss of the recent and the past._

_"You won't leave me, will you?" My voice sounds broken beyond repair._

_He looks perplexed for a moment, no doubt by my unexpected question, before replying, "Hales, I'm here to stay. I have no plans of going anywhere, anytime soon." And, before I realize it's even happening, Jacob is winding his arms around my torso and pulling me toward him until my body is molded against his. "I promise."_

* * *

**|Jacob|**

Hayley is so close to me, with her face angled perfectly for my viewing pleasure, that I'm almost tempted to count each individual freckle that's smattered across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her mouth is parted just enough for little puffs of air to escape in soft spurts, fanning across my face and tickling my nose. And her face is the perfect picture of calm, not even a frown line in sight.

For the first time, in a _long _time, I'm content; my muscles aren't tensed or corded, and my mind isn't muddled or scatterbrained. When I'm away from Hayley I tend to be irritable and anxious, but that's only because the imprint demands her presence to be near.

Hayley shifts slightly in my arms, and I try to mirror her movement so that I can hold her even closer. It's ironic, really, because even though I have this girl in my arms, she still feels so faraway from me somehow. Her thoughts are always a question that I would love to know the answer to. _What I wouldn't give for that bloodsucker's mind reading ability right about now._

I feel as though I've barely scratched the surface in getting to know this girl. She has so much hidden away, behind this wall that she's constructed to keep everyone else out. It has to take a lot to make a person purposefully _want _to shun others away. But there are a lot of ways to grieve, I suppose. I tend to choose anger, and Hayley obviously chooses apathy.

_God, Hayley is just like Bella. _She tries so hard to hide it, putting on her brave face; choosing to feel nothing rather than everything. But every once in a while there is a crack in the facade, and I can see the mess underneath. I want, so badly, to help her.

I sigh in frustration, running a hand over my face. I hate seeing her hurt, and _knowing _how to make it better. But I'll find out, sooner or later.

A distant howl pierces through the night, breaking my train of thought. Instinctually, I glance to the nearest windows and the woods just beyond. It's Sam; he's calling.

Hayley stirs uneasily in her sleep, and switches to her right side. Once again, I follow suit and try to match her position without waking her.

A few minutes pass before I hear a second howl, signaling for me to join them. But I don't dare move from Hayley's side. She fidgets again and I become still, internally praying that Sam won't use his Alpha tone to order me. _I can't leave her now._

I force my eyes close and dispel any thoughts of Sam and the others from my mind, but a third howl infiltrates the night. I curse my traitorous body as my limbs begin to move automatically.

I growl under my breath, staring at Hayley's sleeping form longingly, as I grudgingly slip from underneath the covers.

_Damn Sam and his gag orders._

* * *

**|Hayley|**

By the time my body emerges from its sleepy abyss, I'm shaking. I can't stop. It's as if a cold breeze is sweeping through my room, leaving a trail of trembling limbs in its wake. But my window is closed and locked, protecting me from everything on the other side of the glass. _But I still need to check. I won't know for sure if I don't._

Sometimes, I rub salt in my own wounds.

I fling back the covers from my legs and stumble over to the window. I yank on the cord to wrench the venetian blinds up. The screeching sound floats through the early morning air. It's somewhat similar to the sound of nails dragging on a chalkboard. At east, that's what I think at three in the morning.

As expected, the window is closed tight and locked.

I brace myself against it with my hands, feeling the bite of the chill against my skin. It comforts me - fully waking me.

I'm alert, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. Being near the window helps me breathe.

I take a deep breath. The deeper the better.

And then I hear it. A faint howl somewhere off in the near-distance, sending a sudden chill through my body. I shift my gaze down to the trees and there, much to my shock, is something veiled in the trees. Upon closer inspection, I realize that it's the strange beast from last night. _A wolf, _I realize, mystified by my latest discovery.

But it isn't raised on its hind legs, with its head tilted to the inky black sky like I expect it to be. _Obviously I've watched too many horror movies._ Instead, it seems wary; it has its back towards me, facing off into the forest like there's something out there. Something calling...

_How odd._

There's a flash of dark fur in the pale moonlight, and then it's gone; off into the darkness in one swift movement. I watch, dazed, as it disappears into the night, and then deliberate about what might cause it to react this way. I have this gnawing suspicious that I'm missing something obvious...

A range of different feelings and thoughts course through me: confusion, curiosity, and determination. I have this sudden urge to follow it, and that only serves to confuse me. _Why I am so interested? _It could be the unordinary presence it seems to maintain when I see it, or the difference it seems to hold compared to others of its kind_, __or _even the lack of understanding it leaves me with.

All of those options seem relevant, somehow. But there is only one that seems to stand out to me: this wolf is different, so much so that I'm sure that it almost seems impossible for it to exist in a second-rate town like Forks. It's too beautiful - too magnificent.

I sigh as I linger at the window, waiting for it to reappear... But it doesn't.

I lower the blinds, before lowering my head, and sulk back to my bed. Crawling beneath the still-warm sheets, I hope sleep claims me quick, but I'm still awake by the time Kate pops in to check on me hours later.

It's only then that I realize Jacob's absence.

"Hayley, are you okay?" I register Kate's worried tone as she lingers in my doorway.

"He didn't keep his promise," I whisper pathetically.

* * *

**A/N**: I loved writing this chapter! :)

Things are moving along quite nicely for our two main characters, I think. But, no worries, I promise that all the others will be introduced soon! Once again, I apologize for the slow-going of this plot. I know it can get a little annoying. :/

But, on a lighter note, y'all have made my week so much better with your kind words, as well as favoriting/following my story! So, _**thank you**_! :D

Please keep the feedback coming! It really encourages me to keep going! Plus, I always love to hear your guys' opinions/thoughts!

Until the next chapter!

-Dev.

P.S. I have a question for you guys: Do you like it that Jacob isn't totally rejecting his imprint? I've read some OC stories where Jake completely ignores his imprint because of his devotion/adoration for Bella, and I wanted to go a different route with mine. So, tell me what _you _think!


	13. Chapter 12 - Turning Page

**|Hayley|**

**From**: _Jake__  
_Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. Issues. Meet me at First Beach at 2?__

I re-read Jacob's text message for the umpteenth time, wondering if I've made the right decision by driving all the way here, as he requested, so that he can explain himself. Despite that, though, I type back a response before I can give myself a chance to second guess my decision.

**To**: _Jake__  
_I'm here. See you soon.__

I pocket my phone as soon as I hit 'send' and cut the engine to the Ford, climbing out of the vehicle and slamming the door behind me. I leave the dirt lot and travel down the path that leads through the tall hedge of weeds.

It's definitely colder here, with the wind whipping off the black water, and I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my winter jacket.

I pace down the beach, towards the north seawall, and gaze out across the water. This place has always fascinated me; watching the waves hurl themselves back-and-forth recklessly, searching for seashells in the sand, and seeing the rocks pools magically come to life.

I blink the hair out of my eyes, messy and disheveled by the wind. It's an unusually clear day; there is no rain, but the clouds hang lazily in the sky overhead. Every now and again, however, there's a break in the clouds and the sun's dim rays of come through. I squint up at them, through my tangled curls, and rub my arms, trying to rid the chill away.

I pick my way carefully across the rocks, watching out for anything that might trip me.

Eventually, I come across a piece of driftwood, a long, bone-white tree stranded in the ground, with its roots twisted up at the seaward end, like a hundred little tentacles. I situate myself onto the piece of damp wood and wait, soon engrossed by the show that two seagulls provided as they battled for something a few yards into the dark water—a fish, probably.

"Hey, Hales," an unexpected voice greets me, resulting in me jumping. It's soft, almost shy-sounding. I've been anticipating a forewarning from the noisy rocks of someone's presence, and so it still startles me. I pivot around, my heart thumping erratically against my ribcage, and I find myself just a few feet away from Jacob.

"Jake," I murmur softly, drinking in the sight of him. It isn't until now that I realize just how much I've _missed _him. He comes to stand by me, _finally_, and I notice how his dark eyes are pools of sadness. "Is something wrong?" I question, staring up at his dismal expression.

Jacob sighs and shakes his head, straightening himself up. "No," he responds, a sudden confidence projected in his voice. "No, nothing's wrong. I'm just sorry that I left you without any explanation."

"Is that what's _really _bothering you?" I probe, wondering if I'm getting the full extent to this apology. I have this gnawing suspicion that there's more he isn't telling me.

"Partly," he admits, grimacing.

"Out with it, then, Jake," I urge, crossing my arms. I'm prepared to wait here all day, if need be.

His enormous frame slumps against the driftwood, and he runs a hand across his face exasperatedly. "It's been a long ni—_morning, _for me, is all." I make a mental note of his slipup, but decide not to question him about it now. "Then I had some issues to sort out with Sam, which is why I had to leave in the first place."

_Sam. _

I can't seem to get rid of my perception of Sam as some sort of bad guy. My teeth clenches together whenever I hear his name.

"I'm sorry, Jake," I apologize, which earns me a derisive snort from Jacob. I frown.

"Why are _you _sorry?" he asks bemusedly, patting the space beside him.

I begrudgingly oblige and take up the offer, shrugging my shoulders in the process. "It just seems to me that Sam is always running you ragged. I feel like he takes advantage of you, Jake."

"It isn't like that." The words come out fast, like a reflex. I can't help but wonder if Jacob has grown accustomed to defending this guy. "Sam is like my family, Hales. He's been there for me through a lot."

I study Jacob for a moment, and I realize just how strongly he feels towards Sam. So, I decide to let the subject drop, and comment, "Then I'm sure he won't mind if you go home and get some rest. Because you look like you could use it." _It's true enough_, I think. Poor Jacob looks worse for wear—his eyes are bloodshot and his hair could use a good combing.

"Nah, I'm fine. I'm a big boy, in case you haven't noticed," he quips, nudging his shoulder with mine.

_Oh, I've noticed._

Jacob releases a loud yawn, and I roll my eyes reproachfully at him. "Jake, you're exhausted. You should sleep." And so he does. He drops his head heavily onto my shoulder, weighing it down, and pretends to snore loudly into my ear. "Not like _that_, ya big lug," I chortle, elbowing him in the ribs.

"You said 'sleep,'" he adduced, using my arm as some kind of comfort to snuggle up to.

I chuckle, again, and try to pull away. "Yes, but I'd rather not have a numb arm." He manages to move himself closer, and take a hold of my hand. "Seriously, Jake," I add, feeling my nerves kick in. "I think my arm is actually starting to sweat." I try to wriggle out of his grip, but he just isn't budging. So, after several attempts, I give up and slump in frustration. "No fair," I mutter grumpily.

He doesn't answer right away, and for a moment I think he might actually be asleep. "Jake?" My assumption is proven wrong, however, when Jacob begins to play with my fingers, wiggling them around and flexing them. "What are you doing?"

He lifts his head then and presses our palms together, the warmth from his zinging up my arm and liquifying my bones. "I'm comparing hand sizes," he answers with the utmost seriousness. "Yours are so tiny."

It's true; my hands _do _look miniscule compared to Jacob's. But, then again, he's a walking skyscraper.

"Did you ever think that yours may just be freakishly huge?" I retort.

He smirks at that. "Yeah, but yours are _really _small."

I glower at him, and start to take my hand way. But, just as I move, Jacob laces his fingers through mine. He holds my hand in place and begins to scrutinize the way they mold together almost perfectly. A little _too _perfectly, to be honest.

Then, Jacob averts his gaze to mine. He's no longer playful; his eyes hold an austereness that is so intense that I feel like I might melt. I can feel the butterflies raving around in my stomach, and I swallow hard as I try to force myself to focus. Jacob notices, because his eyes flash to our clasped hands when I accidentally squeeze his.

I have this strange feeling that a line is about to be drawn, and I can't help but wonder if I'm willing to cross it.

Jacob Black has been nothing short of amazing in the few weeks that I've gotten to know him. With his help, I've learned how to prosper and finally _live _again. Or, at least _try _to live.

Bringing his free hand up, Jacob palms the side of my face as he lowers his head until his forehead is pressed up against mine. His touch anchors me to this moment, and I can't help but ask, "Jake, what _is _this?" Four simple words that can serve as a catalyst for the next sequence of events that might throw my life into a whirlwind of beautiful chaos.

The lopsided grin that Jacob casts me is so breathtaking—_so effortless_—that I feel the oxygen leave my lungs with a giant _whoosh._ It almost seems as if he's been _waiting _for me to ask that very question. "Whatever you want it to be. You call the shots here, Hales."

_So, no pressure._

"Why me?" I demand.

"Because I have more to lose with my choice—especially if it's something you're not ready for," he answers, tucking a few strands of hair behind the shell of my ear. "So, I'll let you do the honors."

"Jake—" An acquiesce, of sorts. But there's nothing more that I can say, because there _is _nothing more _to _say. He's giving me an out, but I'm not so sure that I want to take it.

"I'll be right here, Hayley," he assures me, kissing my nose and then my forehead. My eyes flutter close as I bask in the feel of his lips lingering on my skin. "When you're ready."

* * *

Each day bled into the next; slowly, painfully.

It's been one week. Seven days. One-hundred and sixty-eight hours. Ten-thousand and eighty minutes. Six-hundred and four-thousand and eight-hundred seconds. All of them _agonizing._

As soon as I arrived back to my house from La Push, to the emptiness and darkness, I instantly knew that something was wrong—that something was _missing. _I won't say that I felt empty, because that's far too generic and cliche. Though, I'd prefer to feel empty because, when you're empty, at least there is nothing _to_ feel. And what I've been feeling since I left the reservation—since I left _Jacob_—is miserable.

It hurt not having him around. And now that I've been getting better, his absence seems to slow my progress. I've even noticed that I'm slipping back into my old routine. Not to mention the _nightmares... _They've returned with a vengeance. It's gotten to the point that I try to stay up for as long as I can, before succumbing to the inevitable.

My dreams mostly consist of a hollow world that sucks me into its vortex almost instantly, as soon as my eyes close at night. It traps me within its icy depths and steals what remaining soul I have left. I fight—I claw my way to freedom. Or try. I lose blood and hope as my fragile, struggling body nears the hazy, clouded surface. But all of this is a fruitless effort—a pointless attempt to succeed where I know, without a single doubt, that I've failed.

Before Jacob came into my life, I thought that I belonged here, trudging along in a mindless daze, in this despondent place where things seem to die. Some part of me believed that, no matter how hard I would _try, _I would always wind up here, in this hole of hopeless dreams and lost moments, faded memories and recycled puzzle pieces that no longer seem to fit.

But Jacob has given me the courage to _want _to fight—he's sparked a tiny flame within me that wants to become a roaring fire and just _thrive._ I've come to the realization, because of him, that it isn't enough to just exist and move through the motions anymore. I want to _live. _

_And I love him for that._

* * *

**A/N**: I sort of teared up while writing this chapter... :') Hayley has become such a huge part of me while writing this story. I mean, it's so amazing just _how_ much her decisions/actions effect me.

Anyways, sorry for the rather short-ish length. I told myself that I was going to make this chapter rather long, but it sort of just ended without me realizing it lol. Sometimes, chapters just write themselves, y'know?

Thanks so much for the reviews/favorites/follows! Seriously, they make me smile so much that my cheeks hurt! :D haha.

I'd _really _love some feedback on this chapter, guys (a.k.a. reviews). Seeing as how Hayley has come to a major conclusion in this chapter, and all... ;) No worries, more will be revealed in the next chapter!

Oh, by the way, I've posted a Seth/OC story as well! So, please go check that out! It's more light-hearted and fun! :)

As always, until the next chapter!

-Dev.

P.S. This update was rather fast just because I couldn't wait to get it posted. The next chapter should be done and uploaded by Friday!

Have an awesome week!


	14. Chapter 13 - Holding My Breath

**|Jacob|**

This is supposed to just be a nice, lazy evening with my friends to help me keep my thoughts and body focused on something—_anything—_other than Hayley. _And yet_ she's _all I can think about. _I feel my facial features contort into a grimace as I lower my head and rake my fingers through my shorn hair.

I breathe in deeply through my nostrils, wanting the saltine air to overcome my senses. And yet, it seems that no matter what, Hayley's signature aroma—the one that seems to always touch my soul—is ever-present.

My eyes close and she's all I see.

My heart pounds in my chest; my pulse skips erratically, unable to main a steady rhythm. My wolf roars to attention, like some has rattled his cage. He claws at my chest, begging to break free. I swallow hard; for the first time since I shifted, I'm struggling to fight it. Sam taught the pack to _embrace _it—to embrace both parts of ourselves early on. But not in public. And _not _when you're on the verge of losing control.

I clench my fists to keep from shaking. I crack my neck to try and relieve a bit of tension constraining my body. _This is shit._

Suddenly becoming restless, I heave myself up to my feet and begin to pace in the sand. If I don't keep myself moving, I'll combust.

_Literally._

All I want to do is phase and run, give into my baser instinct and go to Hayley. _She's where I need to be._

"If you keep this up, at the rate you're going, you'll run yourself ragged," an amused voice says, though I can detect an undertone of concern. I don't have to look up to know that it's Emily, but I do anyway. She's currently seated in her designated spot: safely tucked up under Sam's arm.

"Jake," Quil calls out from the opposite side of the fire pit. "Calm down, man. I'm sure she's fine."

"I haven't talked to her in a _week_, Quil," I snap furiously. "D'you know what can happen in that span of time?"

Quil simply shrugs and looks away in the near-distance. _Exactly._

"Why don't you just go over to her place, and check in on her?" Embry suggests, shifting the weight of his upper body to his forearms as he rests them on his thighs. "Then you'll feel better and stop worrying so much."

There's a chorus of agreements from the others who have yet to speak up: Kim, Jared, Paul, and Seth. Hell, even _Sam _seems to agree with Embry. _That's a first._

I groan. "I can't just show up. She probably already thinks I'm weirdly overprotective... And I agreed to give her some space. At least, for the time being." Which is why me showing up at her front door would be a ballsy move on my part.

"You could go skulk around, then," Quil offers an alternative. "Y'know, have a sniff about. See what's going on." He raises his eyebrows up and down.

I roll my eyes at his idiocy. "Yeah, that's a _great _idea," I retort, sarcasm dripping with every syllable I say. "Oh, hey, while I'm at it, why don't I just go into her house as a wolf? It'll save her the trouble of _noticing me._" I sigh and once more slump to the ground, ignoring the water from the damp sand seep through my cargo shorts. "I don't know _what _to do."

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Quil remarks, smiling wryly.

Embry barks in laughter and I shoot him a warning glare. I can't wait until he has to deal with this_—__if _he has to deal with it.

"You could always call her," Kim speaks up, from her place next to Jared, causing all of us to turn and give her our undivided attention. "Just make it seem casual."

I hesitate as I mull over that option. _If you don't do this, you're going to end up driving yourself crazy._

I quickly retrieve my phone from my pocket and, just as I'm about to key in her number, my phone begins to vibrate as Hayley's name flashes across the screen. "Well, that's convenient," I mutter as I quickly answer the call.

"Hayley," I utter her name reverently.

_"...Jake_?"

And then my imprint promptly begins sobbing into my ear.

_Fuck._

* * *

**|Hayley|**

The rain has _finally_ slowed down to a light, cool mist. It's Saturday, and I'm sitting near the window, gazing up at the sky overhead; nickel and copper sunlight sheer my vision, making my eyes hurt. I have a dog-eared copy of _Hamlet _in my lap, a pen tucked behind my ear, and an empty mug of hot chocolate at my feet. The sheet of reading comprehension questions on the side table is just as white, and _blank,_ as it was when Miss Clarke handed it out two days ago. _Always a bad thing._

I've burned through most of the day with homework and chores, trying to make use of my idle hands. _I'm in desperate need of a distraction._ Kate is leaving for the hospital in just a few minutes, leaving me to my own devices, and I have half-a-mind to ask her to stay. As I watch her flit about the house, trying to get herself ready so that she can leave _on _time, I think of different ways to voice my request. However, in the end, I decide just to let her go.

"Why don't you give Jacob a call?" Kate suggests while shrugging into her thick, black coat, from her place in the entryway. "I haven't seen him around here in a while. Besides, I don't like the idea of you being here all by yourself._"_

_"Then why don't you stay?" _I want to ask, but I don't. I know that Kate _prefers _the night shift at the hospital, simply because she claims that she thinks, and works, better at night. She's very nocturnal, like an owl. Which is why she never turns working late hours down.

"Jacob is busy," I answer vaguely, trying to keep my voice from wavering even the slightest bit.

"Really?" she asks skeptically, eyeing me meticulously. I see the worry, the doubt, in her eyes. "The kid is practically here every other day, Hayley," she begins methodically, trying to understand. "What's up?" She grabs her purse and dangles it from the bend of her arm as she studies me closely.

"Nothing," I lie, avoiding her gaze. I want to hope that she will let it go, move on, and head to work, but part of me wants her to sit down with me so I can unleash what's going on inside of my head.

Kate's eyes narrow slightly; she leans forward a bit because she _knows_ I'm lying. "Wanna try the _truth _this time?"

I sigh and decide to just come out with it. "This...is just harder than I thought it was going to be," I admit, hesitantly, dropping my gaze down to the words on the current page of my book. They seem to be overlapping and becoming slightly blurred. It isn't until I feel a tickling sensation that I realize I'm _crying. _Nevertheless, the words continue to just spill past my lips. "I-I think I love Jacob, but I'm not sure i-if..."

I feel more confused now that I'm verbalizing the garbled mess of my emotions. It's like when you cut a pan of brownies, but you haven't waited long enough for them to cool. So, they crumble and fall apart, and there is no way to piece it back together so that it remotely resembles a square.

Kate is at my side, seated next to me on the couch, in half-a-second. She wraps an arm around me, a comforting gesture, and I find myself leaning into her side. "Hayley, you're not obligated to any_thing _or any_one. _If you're not sure what you want, you're allowed to take a step back and re-evaluate." My aunt always has a way of letting me off the hook and making me feel empowered at the same time. "You're still so young, and you've still got a lot to look forward to."

"I _know _that I love Jacob," I murmur softly, yet the conviction in my voice can still be heard. "But... I guess I thought all of this would be more romantic. You know, first love and all."

From my peripheral vision, I can see a wry smile spread across Kate's nude-colored lips as she stares off wistfully. "Sometimes love _can _be wonderful and romantic, but it can also be the hardest thing to experience."

_You're telling me._

After several moments of a prolonged silence, which is spent with me mulling over my conflicting thoughts and feelings, and Kate remaining diligently at my side, the latter finally speaks up, "I think you should call him."

My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at her suggestion. "W-What?" I stutter, the word getting tangled on the tip of my tongue.

"You heard me," Kate insisted, a knowing smile spreading across her face. Then she reached over to retrieve the phone from its base on the end table. "Now, just call the boy, already. No doubt he's just as gloomy as you've been."

_So she_ has_ noticed a change in me. _

I timidly take the phone from Kate and weigh it in my left hand, my thumb hovering over the 'Talk' button as I peer contemplatively down at it. Ever fiber and nerve ending in my body is screaming at me to call him. To tell Jacob that I _love_ him.

Without so much as any signal from my brain, my finger begins to dial the familiar seven digits that comprise Jacob's cell phone number. Before I can question, or even reconsider, my choice, I'm holding the phone up to my ear and waiting with bated breath as it rings incessantly.

_Finally,_ the ringing stops.

"Hayley?"

_"...Jacob? " _I sigh as soon as he answers, my voice hinting what I already know: a wave of tears is coming. He breathes heavily into the phone and, as it reaches my ear, the dam breaks and my cheeks are hit with salty drops. I bury my face in my hands, inhaling and exhaling, slowly and deeply. My body shudders as I hold in a sob.

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. _

"Honey, talk to me," he pleads after several moments, sounding desperate.

I feel so fragile, all of a sudden_—_like porcelain. A porcelain doll, waiting. One false move, one false drop, and I'll shatter irreparably. Before I can stop myself, the sobs rack through my body and the tears are now _gushing_ from my eyes as I clutch my arms around my legs.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have_—_"

_"Yes,_ you should've," Jacob practically growls into the receiver, and a watery, lopsided smile somehow spreads across my chapped lips. _He's so stubborn. _"Where are you right now?"

"I'm at h-home, but Jake_—_"

"I'm coming over," he informs me, pointblank. He leaves no room for refuting, which I'm more than fine with. I don't think I can muster up enough willpower to argue with him, anyway. "I need to see you."

My tiny smile turns into a full, megawatt grin. It would confuse Kate, that is, if she were still present in the room; I haven't even taken notice of her absence until now. "Okay," I whisper compliantly.

"I'm going to make this right, Hales," Jacob promises, and I notice this his voice is different now. He sounds almost..._pained. _More tears spring to my eyes when I realize why he's hurting. "I just have to."

I have a feeling the last four words aren't meant for my ears, because Jacob ends the call directly afterwards. I heave a weary sigh, sniffling, as I rest the phone on my thigh, and lift my hands to wipe the tears away. I let my head fall to rest against the back of the couch, staring listlessly up at the ceiling.

What feels like _ages _pass by, each second slowly ticking past as if it's weighed down with molasses. My heart beats painfully against my ribcage as I anxiously wait to hear the oh-so-familiar sputter of Jacob's car as it pulls into my driveway.

Only, it never does.

Kate checks in on me, eventually, asking if I'd like anything to drink. I can only shake my head no, not physically able to form the words.

_Where is he?_

Just when fear begins to churn my stomach, I hear a knock at the door; urgency evident in the way the fist pounds against the wooden panes. I scramble unceremoniously off of the couch and make a mad dash for the door. I fumble with the doorknob, mostly due to the fact that I _know _who's on the other side and I find myself jittery, all of a sudden.

I'm _finally_ able to wrench the door open, holding it, and I reflexively feel all of the air being expelled from my lungs in a giant _whoosh_ing sound as I stare into the swirling brown pools that belong to one Jacob Black. Suddenly, for the first time in a week, the ache in my chest isn't there anymore.

I quickly note that the boy with the burnt caramel skin, standing before me, is currently naked from the waist up. _Gulp._

"Hey, Hales," he greets with confident ease, reaching up to brush away several pieces of his damp, black hair that is plastered to his forehead.

"Er_—_hi," I stammer, watching a water droplet slide down the tip of his nose and drip past his perfect mouth. I clear my throat, feeling the blood pool into my cheeks, and force myself to focus on something _else _for a few moments, at least until I regain my composure. So, I look over his right shoulder and out onto the front lawn.

I realize that it's still drizzling, which obviously explains Jacob's saturated appearance. _Did he walk here? _However, before I can even consider to question Jacob about his mode of transportation, the boy is pulling me to him. I honestly don't know how to react; my body starts moving on its own accord, and my arms wrap around his neck, threading my fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

_Jacob, Jacob, Jacob. _

"It's me, Hayley," he whispers tenderly, assuringly, into my ear; and it's only then do I comprehend that I've said his name aloud. Repetitively. Jacob proceeds to lean back, just enough for him to peer down at me, and he begins to trace my features with his fingertips. My eyes flutter close as his digits ghost over my skin, and revel in the warmth that begins to spread throughout my body due to his fiery touch.

"I've missed you," the words tumble from my mouth so effortlessly that I don't even bother to try and correct myself. Because it's the truth. I've missed this boy something fierce, and it's high-time I tell him.

"Ditto," I can practically _hear _the smile in his voice. I reopen my eyes and, just as I suspected, a beautiful smile is spread across Jacob's face. He palms the side of my face, running his thumb back-and-forth along my cheek. "I've missed you like _crazy_, Hales."

A part of me_—_a _desperate _part_—_wants that to be enough. But it isn't; not _yet_, at least. Not until I break down my walls and let Jacob in entirely.

* * *

**A/N**: This chapter is about two weeks late... Sorry about that! My classes and work have been a little hectic. :/

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As always, feedback is welcome and very much appreciated. :) I always look for ways to improve my writing.

So... Did this chapter meet your guys' expectations? I sure hope so, because I've rewritten it at least eight times! :S lol. I just want it to flow, as well as serve its purpose for the plot of the story. So, tell me your thoughts on that, yeah?

I hope this chapter finds you well! I, on the other hand, have been a little under the weather (upper respiratory infection); that's another including factor in this chapter's late update.

I promise to be a little more diligent in posting new chapters for you guys! :D

Until the next chapter!

-Dev.


	15. Chapter 14 - A Matter of Time

**|Hayley|**

"We need to talk." Four simple words. They are innocent enough, to be sure, but my tone portrays a million different emotions at once as I say them. It's enough to cause Jacob's breathtaking smile to falter, and a shadow to cross his usually bright features.

Jacob's hand sets mine aflame as I grasp it firmly and lead the way up to my room, not bothering to explain things further until we're behind closed doors. I already have the gnawing suspicion that spilling my soul to Jacob will be like pulling teeth, I don't need my aunt's prying ears added into the mix. Nevertheless, feeling Jacob's fingers tighten just a tad around mine gives me an extra boost of confidence.

When everything is out in the open between us, I just want Jacob to pull me into his arms and tell me that everything will be okay, even if that's not a possibility. Because once I share the truth with him, there is the chance that he'll be furious with me for not sharing it with him beforehand. But how could I tell him a truth so haunting, that even _I_ don't want to believe it?

_But it's the only way..._

And I only have the here and now. Besides, I can't afford to stop myself, not when the courage is swelling so strongly within me.

I pad into my room, with Jacob in tow, and quietly ask for him to close the door. As he does so, I amble over to my bed and perch myself on the edge of the mattress. Normally, I'm a stickler for my own rules and would _never _sit on top of my made bed, but ever since Jacob came crashing into my life, I've tossed my own rule book out the window. For example: our friendship. After the accident, I _swore_ that I would never allow myself to get _that _close to another living person. And yet, here I am...with Jacob.

I purse my lips as I stare down at my intertwined hands resting idly in my lap. It's only when I feel the mattress sink the slightest bit do I make any form of movement, which is to flinch. And that's only because I don't even hear the multiple footsteps Jacob has to take to reach my bed across the room.

"What did you want to talk about?"

My tongue feels like sandpaper. "I—I was thinking..." I start, only to trail off. I'm not sure _how _to start out, or even _what_ to tell him. _Can I just blurt out _"I love you" _and move on?_

"You were thinking?" Jacob asks, prompting me.

I finally make myself look up at him through my lashes, and I see the friend (one that I was hesitant to accept, at first) that has brought me out of my shell. I can see the boy I've fallen in love with, and the friend he's been for me since the get-go. I'm overcome with all of these feelings of loss and love, regret and familiarity, and I'm at a loss of what to do first. I'm torn between apologizing, and throwing myself into his arms.

"Th-There are things I want to tell you," I begin, my voice shaky and unsure. "Heavy things. Dark things. And I—I just..." I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Jake, but this isn't easy for me. These things, well, they're _terrifying _to relive and they scare me. So much." I wrap my arms around myself, thinking that I may can hold myself together just a little bit longer, if only for Jacob's benefit.

There is a short silence as Jacob processes what I've said. I shiver as he reaches over and pries my hand away from clutching onto my t-shirt, and cradles it gently in his; I find the very action of it beautiful.

"You don't have to apologize," he finally speaks up, his voice ever-so-patient. "I get it. _Trust me_. You'll tell me when you think I'm ready to know."

A soft gasp escapes my lips as I meet his eyes, and I find them shimmering despite the low light setting in my bedroom. "Y-You really mean that?"

"Definitely," Jacob assures me, matter-of-fact. "Everyone is entitled to their own secrets, Hayley. And, I know when you tell me yours it's because you think I'm deserving enough to know."

It's a good thing I'm sitting, because if I was standing my knees would have surely buckled at his words. "Jake, i—i...it's not worth the wait."

"_You _are, though," he quickly amends.

"Stop it," I whimper pathetically, shaking my head. I want to will myself _not _to cry, but I lose the battle within myself.

"'Stop' what?" Jacob inquired, genuinely curious.

"Being so wonderful," I grumble, sniffling.

A bark of laughter barrels out of him as he reaches over, catching me unprepared, and tucks several tendrils behind my ear. I instinctively lean into his touch. "I can't help it if you only see me through rose-colored glasses."

I frown at that. _Does Jacob not see how truly amazing he is?_

"But you _are_," I assure him, which earns me a throaty chortle from him.

"I'm glad you think so," Jacob murmurs to me fondly, captivating me with his deep brown eyes. "Even _if _I think your judgment might be a little biased."

I can only roll my eyes, and give him a playful shove. It's just as I'm retracting my hand back that Jacob acts fast and secures his around mine, and then manages to easily tug me forward into him. I gasp aloud, but instinctively place my hands on his bare chest and snuggle closer. I feel his body tense, which surprises me since _he's _the one who initiated the embrace.

_Maybe I'm moving too fast, _I think and start to drop my hands. But as I do, Jacob takes a hold of my wrist and I shift my eyes upward to meet his piercing gaze in surprise. His eyes burn into mine, and I'm reminded of how he's only ever looked at me _this _way once. His stare is filled with so much..._compassion _that it makes my stomach do somersaults and my heart to palpitate.

I open my mouth, to apologize for my abrasive action, but he silences me by placing two fingers over my lips.

"Don't be sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with an emotion that I can't seem to place at the moment. "You're only doing what feels right. Maybe I should do the same."

"Jacob, what are you—?" But the words die out as I watch his eyes flicker away from mine, and move downwards to my lips.

_Oh._

This is a moment that people say changes your life. This is _that _defining moment. The moment when you realize that the only thing you want, the only _person _you could ever want—no, _need_—is right in front of you. And, just like that, I know: I'm safe.

Edging closer until my shoulder presses against his, I realize how every one of my molecules are hyperaware of him. Every sense is completely overrun. Jacob's eyes are dark and smoldering; I feel his warm breath as it fans across my cheeks, smell the musky scent of his skin... And I'm _almost _certain that I can even hear his heartbeat, though it may just be the pounding in my ears.

I'm trying, desperately, to pull enough courage from inside of myself to just throw caution to the wind and melt into Jacob like I so want to. If I could just be a little braver, I might be able to lean those few extra inches and close the distance between us.

But I don't have to.

The fingers of Jacob's right hand brush over my cheek and weaves gently into my hair, cupping the back of my neck and I can feel the warmth from the plain of his palm to spread down and settle into my spine. "I'm gonna kiss you now." His words warm my blood.

And he does.

His mouth descends upon mine slowly, as if he's giving me a chance to resist. The heat of his lips sends jolts of lightning throughout my body. Jacob slips his left arm around my waist and eases me into his lap. I let the fingers of both my hands entangle themselves in his soft, damp ebony hair as his tongue slips past my pliable lips.

_Finally._

I tremble under Jacob's featherlight touch, his thumb caressing my cheek, his other hand moving across my back, easing the tension from the muscles until I can easily fall into the mold of his embrace. _I didn't know it could be like _this.

A small, wistful sigh escapes my parted lips as he slowly eases back from me. I don't want to open my eyes; I can go on for hours kissing this boy.

Almost immediately, however, reality comes crashing back in and I begin to shy away, looking at my hands between us, avoiding his intense gaze.

However, Jacob isn't having any of that. He tips my head up with his hand. "I've been waiting for a moment like this," he whispers hoarsely, his eyes flitting rapidly over my flushed face.

"How long?" I ask in a whisper.

He laughs and rests his forehead against mine. "Too long," is his vague response.

The only thing I can think to ask is, "Really?" Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him closer.

"Really."

As the proximity of our lips increases in closeness, I play with Jacob's hair absentmindedly—basking in the warmth and security exuding from him—loving the feeling of it between my fingers. His lips brush mine, briefly, before he's kissing my cheeks, nose, my eyelids, and then my forehead. Everywhere his lips touch tingles.

I sigh languidly as I nestle more into Jacob's body. I have no intention of moving in the near future.

It's just as I allow my eyes to slip shut that the companionable silence between the two of us is broken. "Better not get too comfortable," Jacob whispers into my hair.

"Why?" I inquire quizzically.

"Your aunt's coming," he responds, amusement evident in his tone. However, no sooner does he answer, the door of my room opens and a new voice chimes in, "Am I going to walk in on you two making out from now on?"

I jerk and whip about, my eyes widening in horrification at seeing Kate standing in the doorway of my bedroom, leaning casually against the doorframe. Gone are her usual scrubs, and she's now garbed her usual lounge clothes. Her slender arms are crossed along her chest, and her legs are crossed at the ankles.

"No," I answer Kate's question, as Jacob says, "Yes."

I whirl back around and cast Jacob a pointed glare. "_No_," I reiterate louder, which only causes him to grin mischievously.

I struggle to free myself from Jacob's grasp, but he merely readjusts me so that I am somewhat more conventionally seated on his lap. My cheeks burn at the intimacy of our current position, but Jacob seems at ease.

"Hey, Miss G.," he greets Kate casually, as if nothing is amiss. "Long time, no see."

Kate smirks as she eyes the two of us, as if _nothing _is wrong with seeing her niece in the arms of a boy. "'Long time' is right. Where've you been, kid?"

"Around," he answers simply, shrugging. "But I'm back now."

"Glad to hear that," Kate remarks, nodding. "You've definitely been missed around here. Right, Hayley?"

"Uh, right," I respond, clearing my throat awkwardly. I can feel Jacob's chest quake, due to his silent laughter; no doubt he find's my nervousness humorous.

Kate's nose scrunches up a little as she pushes her glasses further up the bridge, gazing at the two of us on my bed. I can practically _see_ the wheels turning in her head, and I can't help but feel a little apprehensive as to what ridiculous scenarios she's concocting up right now. "Well, I'll go back downstairs and leave you two alone," she announces, albeit hesitantly. "However, the door _stays _open."

_And there it is._

If possible, my face becomes even _more _enflamed as I watch Kate kick off the doorframe and renter the hallway. "Tootles!" she calls faintly over her shoulder, before disappearing back down the hall.

_Could she _be _anymore embarrassing?_

Jacob's body begins to tremble from behind me, and I turn around to see him shaking his head with laughter. "Something funny?"

I think I sound pretty menacing, but Jacob doesn't bother to wipe the smile from his face. He just stares down into my eyes and shrugs. "You are."

I want to pout, but a chaste peck on my lips from Jacob has my brain reeling and I can no longer focus on my annoyance anymore.

_Drat._

I pout when he pulls away. "That's no fair. Cheater."

"Since when is this a competition?" Jacob muses aloud, playing absentmindedly with the ends of my hair.

"When I realized that you're just too good," I mumble, ducking my head and letting my curls shield my blush.

Jacob chuckles, kisses the crown of my head and murmurs something along the lines of 'silly girl,' before falling back onto the mattress and dragging me down with him until I'm lying on top.

_I can get used to this, _I think while my eyes flutter close and I bury my face into his bare chest.

That thought alone is terrifying and exhilarating.

* * *

**A/N**: This chapter has been finished for awhile, but I just haven't been able to bring myself to post it. Mostly because I'm not entirely happy with it. :/ But, oh well. I refuse to keep you lovely people waiting any longer. 3

Thanks so much for your guys' encouraging words! Truly, they mean the world to me! 3

I'm hoping to, once _again, _get back into the swing of things. Life has just been so hectic lately (I'm sure some of you other writers can relate) lol. Nevertheless, I plan on seeing this story through. So yeah, it will get finished - no worries! ;)

Hope to hear from you amazing people! Your reviews make my day so much brighter! :D

-Dev.


	16. Chapter 15 - Just Being

**|Hayley|**

During the night, my legs, whether they're bare or wrapped in flannel, stretches out and tangles up in my sheets, forcing me to take a few minutes to blearily free myself in the early hours of the morning from my constraints. When I wake up the next morning, however, my legs are not wrapped around cold sheets, but are pressed up against something scratchy and warm.

Frowning, with my eyes still closed, I shift against the rough material, trying to figure out what on Earth has crawled into my bed. Pressure weighs down on top of my shoulders, pushing me down into the mattress as I lay on my side.

I force myself to pry my eyes open, and my body instantly tenses when I realize that I'm not alone. My shocked stare collides with the bare, copper-toned arm that is wrapped tightly around my shoulder. My eyes trail up, and over the broad shoulder, continuing up to the remarkably handsome face of Jacob Black. His eyes are currently closed, and his face stoic as he sleeps on his back with my body curled into his side.

_He stayed._

As I thoughtfully chew on my bottom lip, to stop my growing smile, the memories of last night slowly creeps into my mind. It's all because of the toe-curling kisses that Jacob peppered me with.

Sighing softly to my self, and vaguely remembering inviting Jacob to sleep over, I can't help but to peek at the bare skin of his chest that is spotlighted by the gray, muted sunshine filtering into my room. Jacob's skin, chiseled, flawless and smooth; like marble, is practically begging for me to brush my fingertips over it, but I force my fingers to clench into tight fists, concerned that Jacob might wake up by the slightest touch. Sure, I've seen muscled men on television, or on the occasional book, but they all fail in comparison at the perfection before me.

My blatant stare travels up from Jacob's chest to his face, and I admire the way his lashes brush his cheekbones. It's just as I begin to wonder how those dark orbs manage to make my knees weak with just a glance, a slight smirks forms on Jacob's lips, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly and forcing a flush to creep to my cheeks.

"Just so you know," says Jacob abruptly, with his eyes remaining close, causing me to jump at the sudden sound of his voice in the once-silent room, "if you want to keep staring at me, I can stay here all day."

A scoff rips from the back of my throat as I roll my eyes, blush still prickling from underneath my skin as I lightly shove his shoulder, hoping to cause him to budge just the slightest bit. He makes no sound of discontent, instead chuckling and opening his eyes to meet mine.

"How long have you been awake?" I inquire, frowning down at him.

Jacob shrugs nonchalantly before replying, "A little while after you stopped talking in your sleep."

"W-What?" I stammer out defensively in a hushed voice. "I do _not _talk in my sleep."

"Actually, you do," he replies assuringly, his smirk only developing into a blinding grin that momentarily leaves me speechless. As I stare, dumbfounded, at him, he continues, "It definitely offered some entertainment for me when I woke up earlier this morning."

"What _exactly _did I say?" I ask him nervously, wondering if I've voiced some of my nightmares to him.

"You sort of muttered everything, for the most part," he answers, shrugging. "The only thing I managed to catch was... Well, my name. That, I have to say, was my favorite part."

Heart still racing, I roll my eyes at him _again_, and duck my head to hide the inevitable blush that starts to creep upon my cheeks. _Talk about mortifying._

"There's no reason to be embarrassed, y'know," Jacob admonishes good-naturedly, cupping the side of my face with his free hand and guiding it upwards so that I was staring into his dark, depthless eyes. "I _like_ that you dream about me."

I can only gulp at the intensity I see spark to life in his eyes as they gaze into my own. I open my mouth to respond, but the words die on the tip of my tongue when I feel the pad of Jacob's thumb brush along the outer rim of my lower lip. The reaction that the simple gesture elicits from me — a needy whimper — causes my heart to stop and restart tenfold, and as well as my face to become even more crimson.

I watch on in interest as Jacob's face tilts ever closer to mine; a telltale sign that he's going to kiss me. However, just as my breath hitches in my throat and my eyes flutter close, my alarm starts to chirp loudly. It serves as a harsh reminder that it's Monday, and that reality is about to shove me out of my comfortable, warm bed.

I groan and, out of instinct, I practically crawl over Jacob and push my fingertips into the top of the clock, thankfully silencing it. Just as I go to return to my side of the bed, I find myself turning back to see that Jacob's face is only _centimeters _from mine, my body lying nearly parallel to his. Feeling heat rush all the way down to the tips of my toes, I sheepishly say, "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

This time, Jacob doesn't hesitate by closing the distance between us; his lips mold onto mine as he gently runs his fingers through my unruly auburn curls. My timid fingertips brush against both sides of his jawline; the light stubble found there prickles my sensitive skin and produces an impish smile on my face as I continue to kiss the rugged boy beneath me.

Slowly, I pull myself away, sighing serenely, and whisper to him, "Good morning to you, too."

Jacob chuckles and kisses the tip of my nose, causing me to giggle in turn as I slide off of him. My usual routine seems to flutter from my mind, forcing me to peer around my spinning bedroom and try to remember just _what _I need to do to get ready for the day. Feeling Jacob's amused gaze following me, I shake the cobwebs from my head and stride towards my closet. In the process, I struggle to force my heart to calm down as I slide open the closet door and begin to rifle through my clothes, searching for something to wear.

Eventually, I settle on a pair of soft jeans and a navy-colored thermal shirt. I then wheel around to tell Jacob that I'll only be a few minutes in the bathroom, but he encourages me to take as much time as I need.

I cast him a grateful smile before exiting the room and going about my usual morning routine. After a scalding shower and brushing my teeth, I rush to dress myself and rejoin Jacob in my bedroom. Only, he isn't there and my bed is freshly made.

_Odd._

I retrace my footsteps back into the hall and traipse towards the stairs. "Jacob?" I call out, only to be met with reticence. As I descend the steps, my bare feet chilled by the wood of the stairs, I'm not exactly sure what I'll stumble upon.

There is a confusing scent in the air, one that is vaguely familiar. Wrinkling my nose at the overbearing scent, my hand trails down the bannister of the staircase as I lightly step down onto the first floor, my eyes flitting around the living room to find it empty. A frown now staining my face, I follow the odd aroma into the kitchen.

It is there, to my utmost surprise, that I find Jacob Black.

His naked back is facing me as he stands in front of the stove, a spatula in one hand while the other is running over his face as he sighs in aggravation. The trash-can, which is usually stored in the alcove under the sink, is a foot away from him, nearly overflowing with broken eggshells. I realize that this is also the culprit of the overwhelming smell of sulfur; the burnt eggs that Jacob has tossed away. An egg carton, with most of the dozen missing from sight, is opened on the Formica counter along with a half-used softened stick of butter. Used paper towels also littered the countertop, along with a couple of dropped eggs.

The sight before me nearly has be dissolving into a fit of giggles. I force my left hand up so that I can cover my mouth, a vain attempt to stifle my laughter, but just the slightest bit of movement forces Jacob's broad shoulders to stiffen. He turns, albeit reluctantly, to face me, with the spatula still in hand and an awkward, somewhat embarrassed smile, spread across his face.

"I was just, uh, trying to cook breakfast," he says uncomfortably, stretching a hand to the back of his neck to rub it in an embarrassed fashion. "But I guess cooking isn't exactly one of my strengths."

Pressing my lips together tightly, attempting to hide my amused smile, I cross the room and sidle up next to Jacob so that I can peer into the pan. The scrambled eggs that he's been cooking, while hardly perfect, still looks edible, and _actually _smells rather decent. "These look fine, Jake," I assure him warmly.

Jacob cocks an eyebrow, glancing into the pan as well with a discouraged look plastered on his face. "I'm serious," I add, nudging him in the side with my elbow. "They look great."

Afterwards, I take it upon myself to set the table while Jacob manages to successfully toast the bread without burning it. We eat in comfortable silence, the only noise being the scraping of forks against plates. The eggs, while cooked well enough, desperately needs salt and pepper, but I keep my thoughts to myself—Jacob, after all, has gone through all of this trouble to cook breakfast for me.

I honestly can't think of any other time when anyone (who _isn't _family) has gone through this much trouble just for me.

"Thank you," I involuntarily blurt out, breaking the silence and causing Jacob to look at me from across the table, a bemused expression plastered across his face. Meeting his gaze levelly, I continue, my voice thick with emotion, "For all of this. For just..."

The words escape me as the intensity of Jacob's gaze makes my stomach do somersaults, something that has _never _happened when any guy has looked at me. I try to shake it away, but it's impossible.

"Last night took a lot out of you, huh?" he asks quietly, knowingly, while dragging his hand through his inky locks. "Hales, you know you don't have to thank—"

"I know I don't 'have' to, but I _want _to," I interject, reaching over and squeezing his hand kindly.

Jacob's eyes flit down to stare at my hand atop his, before coming back up and focusing on me. There is something about his gaze, something about his eyes, that I love. The feeling of them gliding over my face when he speaks to me, how they never turn away; like I'm all that he can think about, all that he can see. There is importance in his stare; something that no one else has really made me feel in quite some time.

One shift of my hand, and I can feel Jacob's hand turning over and tightening around it, refusing to release me for anything.

I smile, happy to be where I am.

* * *

**A\N**: On the short side, I know, but it'll have to suffice. :) Plus, I promise to make up for the length in the next chapter!

Reviews are always appreciated!

-Dev.

P.S. Go check out the new chapter for 'I'll Be Fine'! And please leave a review, while you're at it! ;)


	17. Chapter 16 - Breaking Walls

**|Hayley|**

"Are you sure about this?"

"Nope."

"That's reassuring, Jake."

"You know I'm only kidding."

"Do I?"

"Hales, _relax. _They're gonna love you."

"How do you_ know, _though?"

"Just got a good feelin'."

I huff, still not entirely convinced of our plans for today, while yanking my hairbrush through my wavy locks repetitively. I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, meticulously going over my appearance. Jacob told me beforehand to dress comfortably, and somewhat warmly, since we are going to be outside for the better part of the day. So, taking his advice into consideration, I'm currently sporting a green v-neck shirt, black camisole, jeans and canvas sneakers.

I've spent the better part of the last two hours trying to piece together the perfect outfit for the occasion, wanting to look my best, but without seeming like I'm trying too hard. Yet, when Jacob appeared at my door, looking exceptional in a pair of worn cargo shorts and a faded black t-shirt, that's been through the wash one too many times, I immediately started to rethink my ensemble.

"Stop over-thinking it," Jacob advises, chuckling, breaking my train of thought. "You look great."

I cast him a sidelong glance, admiring his muscled body casually leaning against the frame of the bathroom door. His head is angled just so, and his brown eyes flicker over me from head-to-toe. Any other time, my face would betray my embarrassment of Jacob looking at me so intently, but right now I'm too annoyed at my own ignorance over this entire situation.

"I just want them to like me," I admit in a low tone, sighing, while setting down my brush on the counter of the sink.

"And they will," he repeats the sentiment for the umpteenth time. I find myself suddenly wishing that I could exude the confidence that Jacob's voice holds. "Just trust me on this, okay?"

That one word — _trust — _almost has me reeling. I lick my chapped lips nervously, and cast him a wry smile; internally trampling down an onslaught feeling of queasiness. "Let's get this show on the road, then!" I almost cringe at my false cheeriness as I go to sidestep him and walk out into the hallway. However, Jacob hinders my efforts to pass him by straightening his posture and blocking the doorway with his wide frame. "Jake, what're you—?"

Jacob promptly mutes me by swooping his head down and placing a sweet and simple peck on my lips, yet it leaves my whole body zinging with excitement, and just the thrill from the feeling of his kiss. "I know you're nervous, so don't pretend like you aren't. Besides, you're a terrible actress."

"Gee, thanks," I deadpan.

He chuckles, reaching over and taking one of my hands in his larger one. "My point is: the guys _will _warm up to you. So don't stress it."

I can't help but ask my next question, "'Guys?' So will I be the only girl there?"

"No, of course not," Jacob responds, as if the answer should be obvious. "Emily, Kim, Leah... They'll be there too." He ticks off the names, almost as if I should know them. Granted, I have heard him _talk _of them before, but I still have yet to meet them.

_Until now, anyways._

"I'm trying really hard not to think about what I'm about to do, so can we go already?" I ask anxiously.

"Nothing I can say will help to make this any easier for you?" Jacob wonders, his brows furrowing in frustration.

"Just promise not to leave my side," I voice to him my inner thoughts, to which he merely smirks at.

"Ravenous wolves couldn't drag me away."

I can only smile and roll my eyes at his strange sense of humor. "Then I'm sure I can face your friends." _...I think, _I add silently in my head.

After flicking off the bathroom light, I lead the way down the hall and then the stairs, hearing Jacob's heavy footfalls as he trails behind me. I grab my windbreaker from the banister and, while doing so, the generic _Verizon _ring vibrates my cell from within the depths of my pants' pocket. I quickly fish it out and see that Kate is calling.

"Who is it?" Jacob wonders, peering curiously over my shoulder.

"My aunt," I say simply, shrugging.

"Better answer it before she busts a coronary," he quips, smirking.

I roll my eyes at Jacob's lame attempt to make a joke. "Hello?" I say into the phone after accepting the call, cradling the phone between right shoulder and cheek as I slip into my jacket.

"Hiya, kiddo," Kate greets casually. "Thought I'd call to check in. How are things on your end?"

"Fine," I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time into my Smartphone, since Kate left. "Everything's shipshape here. Just worry about enjoying your time while you're down in Seattle, okay?"

"I will... I mean, I am," she sighs, her fingers no doubt beginning to run through her ginger hair. "It's just that this is your first time having the house to yourself since..."

My shoulders stiffen as her voice trails off, my fingers slowly clenching the phone tighter into the skin of my palm. Releasing a shaky breath, I manage to say, "It''ll be alright, Aunt Kate. I won't be alone; Jake promised to pop in and check on me while you're gone."

"He's there now, isn't he?"

_Damn it._

"Yes," I answer hesitantly.

"About that," Kate begins hedgingly, her voice suddenly sounding uncertain. _Uh-oh._ "I'm not sure if I like the idea of-"

"Aunt Kate, _please_," I scoff, rolling my eyes as I frown into the phone. "Nothing like _that _is going to happen."

"Like I haven't heard that before," she practically grumbles, more so to herself than to me.

"I'm hanging up now," I shoot back in retaliation, a little offended that she doesn't trust me. Kate _knows _what I'm like. She knows I'm not a party-kind-of-girl - I've _never _been a party girl. I prefer silence to drunken loudness, I prefer to be alone rather than within the swarm of my peers trying to fit the stereotype.

"No, no," she's quick to interject, sighing in frustration. "Don't do that. I'm...I guess I'm just not used to this kind of thing, you know? Cut me some slack, kiddo."

"Look, I promise to call if some axe-wielding maniac breaks into the house, okay?" I offer, hoping that this will appease her nervousness. Jacob's low, rumbling chortle causes the smallest of smile to form on my lips. "Now go and have some _fun_ already."

Kate snorts derisively. "Because a nursing convention is _such _a 'happening' place to be, right?"

"Well, if anybody can liven the place up, it's you," I quip, hoping to cheer her up a bit. Kate loves the city, and I wasn't about to let her pass up the opportunity to go back and visit her old stomping grounds. Besides, she's been dropping hints here and there that she has been _really _wanting to go for the past few days.

"Thanks, Hales," she says, and after some last minute goodbyes, I am eventually able to hang up my phone.

"That was interesting," Jacob muses, my flushed face only encouraging his snickering.

"Shut up," I grumble, pocketing the infernal device and walking towards the front door.

_Men._

* * *

**|Jacob|**

I'm entranced. Everything has long since faded away, and it's just her.

Just Hayley.

I could stare at her all day. And not in a stalker way, but in an amazed kind of way.

The fire is casting an orange-like glow over her and, in the low light, she reminds me of an angel. A fallen one, but an angel nonetheless. There's a light breeze, coming in with the tides as they kiss the shoreline, and it plays with the ends of her hair, causing the strands to twirl around. It almost seems as if they're dancing.

She glances up at me then, through her dark lashes, and meets my eyes for a second; a faint blush rising on her cheeks. She's cute when she blushes. Actually cute.

"Stop looking at me," she orders, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Never," I respond, earning me a quick jab in my side, due to my lame-ass response, by Hayley throwing her elbow into my ribs. I chuckle and, feeling sprite; needing to touch her, to hold her, needing to calm the itch in my hands, and the harsh roar of my wolf to caress her, I snake my right arm around her waist and draw her body closer to mine. And, as if seemingly due to instinct, her body curls into my side as she rests her head on my shoulder.

"I think they like me," I can easily hear Hayley murmur contently, despite the raucous laughter from the guys nearby. I'm hyper-sensitive to her touch, attuned to her body. She's breathing steadily onto my neck, and I can't help but place my lips against her temple. It's all I can do to keep myself from claiming her mouth with mine, at the present moment.

"Of course they do," I comment lowly, smirking knowingly. It has never been a question of whether or not the pack would like her, but if _she _would like them. As my imprint, Hayley has already been welcomed without hesitation. Inviting her here to meet everyone has been more so for her benefit, than theirs. "What made you think otherwise?"

Before Hayley has a chance to answer my question, however, Quil can be heard a few feet away, calling out, "Who wants to go for a swim?" His stocky figure can be seen running for the water, abandoning his round of roughhousing with Paul, shedding his shirt and tossing it carelessly aside into the damp sand.

In a matter of minutes, the wind has picked up, and the water is dark and dangerous-looking. Clouds are rolling in; another storm on the horizon. "He's _really _going out in that?" Hayley wonders aloud, her voice wary.

"Don't worry," I reassure her, smirking at Quil's idiotic antics. He's currently splashing at Kim and Jared, trying to get them to join in on the fun. "He can handle himself."

"Guys, come on in! The water's great!"

I can only snort, because to us the water _is _great. But for the likes of Hayley, Kim, and Emily, not so much. Plus, the current looks rather harsh, and I'd rather _not _have my imprint be swept away.

"Don't be stupid, Quil! Get your ass out of the water and onto dry land. _Now_," Sam orders, thankfully. He grudgingly complies to our alpha's demand, sloshing his way back up onto the shore. It probably isn't fair that Sam pulls rank in our everyday lives, yet, on the other hand, I don't want Quil to tempt Hayley into that water. _No way._

"Why do you gotta be such a Debbie Downer, Sam?" Quil asks, on the verge of sounding whiny.

"Because not _everyone _can handle those tides, man," I retort, trying not to sound too biting with my tone. My eyes shift involuntarily to Hayley, so that he can catch my underlying meaning.

"They're right, Quil," Jared pipes in, his arm tightening around Kim. "We don't want anyone to drown."

He snorts and rolls his eyes. "I wasn't gonna let anything happen to anyone." Then he shifts his gaze to Hayley. "We'll go swimming next time," he promises her.

Hayley opens her mouth to respond, "Thanks, but I-"

"Not in weather like this, she isn't," I state warningly, rudely interrupting her.

Both stare at me, Hayley blankly and Quil annoyingly.

"Jake," she murmurs questioningly, cautiously. She's confused as to my abrupt callousness about the topic in question.

"Okay then, _Dad_," Quil scoffs sarcastically. "Dude, you gotta lighten up."

I jump to my feet, forgetting for a moment to tone down my speed. "Don't start that crap with me right now. It isn't the time, or place."

"Then when?" he shot back, his eyes narrowing. What's left of the relaxing atmosphere has completely dissolved. "You're no _fun_, anymore, Jake. Remember what that is? Ever since Bella-"

"Don't!" I shout, shuddering at the sound of her name out loud. It's too soon; everything is too soon. "Just don't say _anything_, Quil." I clench and unclench my fists. "Not in mixed company, okay?"

My hands begin to shake, and I can feel my skin begin to tingle. My bones shift, and begin to swell in anticipation. I'm so _angry. _I can't figure out what Quil is _thinking - _bringing Bella up like this in front of everyone. In front of Hayley! Just because he knows about it, doesn't give him the right to talk about her so carelessly.

"Jacob," Paul's warning manages to break through to me. How strange, the way our rolls are suddenly reversed; it's usually one of _us _having to calm _him _down.

I grit my teeth and glower at Quil over the crackling fire, the dancing flames only serving to make his own features look that much more menacing as he returns the scowl. It's only when I feel a cool, light touch to my forearm that the shaking slowly recedes. My bones relax and my skin no longer feels like its about to burst right off of my body. For now, anyways.

"Calm down, Jake," Hayley whispers soothingly. _Almost, almost... But not quite. _I know that if Hayley removes her hand, there is absolutely nothing anchoring me down - no reason for me not to shift and give Quil a good bite in the ass.

Seeing my internal struggle, Sam thinks on his toes and suggests, "Emily, Kim, why don't you guys take Hayley back to the house? It's getting late, and the temp has started to drop. We'll take care of things here, then meet up with you all there in a bit."

I avert my eyes from Quil, and peer down at Hayley. She's staring up at me unblinkingly, her eyes glinting with determination. She isn't going to budge, I already know, unless I urge her to do as Sam has asked. "Go with them," I beseech, my voice practically begging for her to not be stubborn. _Just this once_.

She purses her lips, forming a thin line. She's reluctant, no doubt because of the fear and confusion that is written clearly across the pinched expression that is plastered on her face. It's right here and now that I want to tell her everything. About Bella, the legends, vampires - all of it. Just put it out in the open for her, and then deal with the pernicious consequences that is bound to follow.

But I don't. I can't.

"Come on, Hayley. Let's head back to my place. You must be getting chilly," Emily's warm voice chimes in, proving to be the ever-present mother of the pack.

Hayley makes no action to move, however. If anything, her grip on my arm tightens insurmountably. "Promise me that you won't do anything reckless," she states firmly, looking searchingly up at me.

"I can't do that."

_Wrong answer. _

"Then I'm staying," she tells me in a stern tone.

"Hayley, I don't think-"

"I've got this, Em," I assure her, to which she nods in agreement. Turning to Hayley, my eyes automatically lock with hers; as the deep green orbs sear into mine, I see that they're wide with anticipation and just a hint of nervousness. "Hales, go with them," I murmur lowly, raising my hand and gently tracing my finger tips down the side of her face, feeling her soft skin under mine. "Everything will be fine."

I can at least promise her that. And she seems to believe me, because she gives me a curt nod before placing a soft kiss to my lips. I nearly groan with the need to deepen the kiss, but Hayley retracts back before I have the chance.

Then, wordlessly, she sidesteps me and makes to follow Emily.

_At least she'll be safe now._

* * *

**|Hayley|**

A cool scent of wet pine begins to fill the small car as I crack the window. Rough evergreen trees and a soft rain whips by coldly, providing a simple, yet effective, distraction from the consuming silence that is giving me a headache. It seems odd to me that silence, as well as noise, can cause my head to hurt. I allow my eyes to flutter close while resting my forehead against the cool glass, sighing heavily.

My mind is nothing but a blur. My thoughts are not coherent and, try as I might, I just can't seem to make sense of any of them.

Amidst my current confusion, however, I've expertly avoided Emily's frequent concerned glances thus far; she has continuously checked in on me via the rear view mirror since we have left the beach. Of course, I've opted to stare out of the window instead, seemingly interested in the ever-present vegetation. Several times, already, the elder girl has asked me if I'm going to faint, because I'm 'so pale,' (her words, not mine). But compared to her and Kim's skin tone, my coloring causes me to look like a ghost.

"Do you think she's asleep?" I don't have to open my eyes to know that Kim is the one who is asking the question. Her voice is light and airy, with a hint of concern.

"I'm not sure," Emily responds calculatingly. She doesn't seem as naive as Kim.

A few beats of silence, and then, "Why do you think Jacob reacted the way he did? I thought for sure he'd be over her. What with Hayley in his life, now."

My mind begins to reel as I realize the 'her' that Kim is referring to is Bella Swan. _This is the second time tonight that she's been mentioned._

"It's not that simple, Kim," the older girl comments with a weary sigh.

"Shouldn't it be, though?"

I can't explain why, but I'm waiting with bated breath for Emily's answer. Finally, she says, "_Nothing _is ever that easy."

"But you and Sam...," the younger girl trails off, sounding thoughtful.

"Someone will get hurt in the end. It's inevitable," the guilt and anguish in Emily's voice is undeniable.

"Em, you can't keep blaming yourself-"

"I knew the consequences when I accepted Sam," she interjects dismally. "And while I'll never regret doing so, that still doesn't change the fact that I hurt someone I love dearly in the process."

Both girls are silent after that, thus leaving me to my own muddled thoughts.

_Always a bad thing. _

* * *

**A/N**: This chapter has been long overdue, I know. Words cannot express how _sorry _I am that it's taken me so long to post something.

Nevertheless, I hope you all are still interested in Hayley and Jacob!

Until the next chapter!

-Dev.

**P.S. **I will be going back to the previous chapters in this story and re-editing them. Just like I've done in COF. :)

**P.P.S. **Feedback is always welcome/appreciated!


End file.
